


The Treaty that Brought them Together or: The Vampire Arranged Marriage AU

by Fandomanon



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Gym Class Heroes, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is..., Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Arranged Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 151
Words: 125,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandomanon/pseuds/Fandomanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete Wentz is a vampire who's tired of fighting with the humans that he co-exists with, so he decides to make a contract; one of the clauses? Marriage to a human. And Patrick Stump's the human unlucky enough to be chosen for him. Buckle up, this is gonna be a long ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress; this fic currently has 35,000 words and counting, and I'll update tags, warnings, and characters, as well as pairings, when they apply. 
> 
> Please tell me if anything needs to be tagged.
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr at fandomanon.tumblr.com

Okay so consider this then........

 

Vampire arranged marriage au....

 

With Pete being leader of vampires. who like, as part of a treaty with the humans, has to become betrothed to a human.

 

And the humans... aren't really fond of this arrangement, to be honest. But they still have to provide someone for the marriage, and rather than choose someone really important (because they don't wanna give someone like that over to the vampires) they pick a kid whose parents were killed by vampires, because, well, it's not like he has anything else to do, and he’s on the streets anyways.

 

And Patrick is very unhappy with this arrangement, but if it means that the war between vampires and humans is finished then he'll totally do it. He's kinda a good person like that. So the human leaders dress him up all pretty and make sure he knows how to react to vampires, and then they sort of pat him on the head and shove him at the vampires like hahaha welp here's One Human (tm) ready for marriage and then they get the hell out of there, leaving Patrick alone with the vampires.

           

They've heard things about the infamous Pete Wentz, and none of them are good, so they aren't really expecting him to survive? Like, they know if the vamps break the treaty then people will be up in arms and that'll get the war properly started, and that's almost what they’re hoping for; giving Patrick away gives them more time to plan.

 

Pete's the leader of all this, you see; and, to be honest, he's tired of the fighting-- it gets boring when you're immortal, and he hates being bored. What's worse is that all the other vampires around him are dreadfully dull as well; it's always yes sir, no sir-- he hasn't had any in fighting in ages, not since he crushed the last rebellion. He figures a human will be amusing, at least for a while, and if not, well, they can be a sustainable resource, without starting up a war just to eat.

 

And when Pete sees him, he's not really that impressed at first. The kid's cute, but looks really young, and sure, he has a nice mouth that Pete wants to suck on, but he looks fairly ordinary other than that, especially when compared by the supernatural beauty of all the vampires Pete's been around most of his unlife.

 

Anyways, he sets the kid (something that starts with a p, he thinks--he'll ask one of his advisors later, since he needs to know it to marry him) up with a room adjoining with his own, although he double and triple checks that it can only be opened from his side; it'd be just his luck if they sent some kind of assassin, and he's not taking any chances on that. The kid (Patrick, that's his name) looks more than a little scared, so it's doubtful that he could kill anyone, especially a vampire, and Pete makes a note in his head to make sure his room's locked when he needs sleep, because the last thing he needs is a vamp smelling his terror and deciding they want a snack.

 

When Patrick starts yawning, Pete sort of just--pats him awkwardly on the head, tells him they'll speak tomorrow and sends him off to bed, before he goes back out to meet with his advisors and make sure the wedding plans are all on track.

 

Patrick is not feeling so great about all this, to be honest. He was picked up pretty much off the streets, and the people who did it knew what happened to his parents. And instead of thinking, hey, maybe the person whose parents were killed by vampires in front of them maybe isn't the _best_  person to send in to a coven of a bunch of vampires, they just shoved him into an ill-fitting suit and handed him off without any protection.

 

He's feeling a bit like a scapegoat, and very uncomfortable with this position, especially since when Peter was showing him around he could feel vampires watching him, and it didn’t make him any more comfortable when Peter forgot his name and then locked him up in a room. Granted, it was a nice room; it's like a suite, with a bathroom as well as a little kitchenette (thankfully someone remembered that humans can’t drink blood, so it's not like he's going to starve anytime soon), and the bed looks comfortable as well.

 

And, well, it's like three in the morning, and he's tired, so he doesn't bother investigating more than that, just curls up tight and falls asleep, hoping that when he wakes up it'll all just have been a horrible dream. Because, see, he had Plans, before his parents died. He was gonna join a band, become famous and help them and his siblings out, marry someone out of his league who liked him for who he was, and just enjoy life.


	2. Chapter 2

Pete gets back to his rooms around 5am-ish and he can hear Patrick breathing in the other room, and it makes him a bit too keyed up to sleep, so instead he prowls around his room, and it almost makes him want to go in there, investigate him while he's sleeping, see if there's anything really special about him.

 

The only thing that stops him from doing it is that he doesn’t want to feel like a thief in his own home, and the fact that he doesn't know when Patrick will wake up-- he'll have more time to figure him out when he wakes up, seeing as he's sun-proofed his home, and he doesn't sleep most of the time anyways. Plus, if most of the vamps are sleeping maybe the kid will open up more.

 

Patrick wakes up at like, 10am, because he had a rough night, and it was the first night in a long time he's slept in an actual bed. He gets up and stumbles to the bathroom to take a shower, because he doesn't want to upset any vampire’s "delicate sensibilities," and when he's finished (humming quietly under his breath to stop the silence from closing in on him), he gets out, and discovers that hey, he doesn't have any clothes to put on except what he was wearing before.

 

That means going around the room and searching through drawers before he finds something to wear, and to be honest, he's not that impressed with what he finds--what, is the person who picked out these clothes color blind or something? Maybe they have bad taste in clothes.

 

Nevertheless Patrick grabs the least offensive articles (a slightly too tight shirt that's long on him, and some way too tight jeans) and puts on his hat as well, before wandering into the kitchen to see if he can grab something to eat, half wondering if there was anything he could do to escape the boredom, seeing as he's locked in and everyone's (thankfully) asleep.

 

Pete can hear him moving around in the other room; he's heard him since he woke up, started the shower, and yeah, he can kinda see the appeal now, because the kid? Has a voice like gold, that could captivate anyone, definitely.

 

When he hears Patrick rummaging around in the kitchen, that's when he goes to the door and opens it, gets into Patrick's room and looks around for just a moment before he follows the sound of him humming to himself into the kitchen, where he leans against the doorway and waits to be noticed

 

It doesn't take long till Patrick's turning around, and when he spots Pete he yelps, loudly, presses back into the counter with wide eyes, like it could save him if Pete decided to attack.

 

Fear was a cute look for him, to be honest, and Pete couldn't help but to let out a bark of laughter, which made Patrick less scared and more annoyed.

 

"You can't just surprise me like that--what, you couldn't have knocked?"

  
Pete just looked at him, more serious now, until Patrick shrank back again, "I-sorry. You just-please knock next time? I could've dropped something."


	3. Chapter 3

Pete doesn't say anything again, decides to just let him sit for a bit, and takes a better look at Patrick--he licks his lips when he's nervous, and Pete just wants to bite his bottom lip. The shirt is one of his, as are the jeans, and it is a very nice view, makes something possessive flare up inside him, before he stifles it.

 

Pete finally grins at him, all teeth, and he can hear Patrick swallow hard when he notices his fangs, "it's my house, I don't have to knock. Besides, I'm the only one who can get in here, so you don't have to be scared--not about intruders, anyways."

 

Patrick narrows his eyes and huffs, turning his head away from Pete, "great, thanks. What is it you wanted exactly? I thought you guys went to sleep when the sun came up."

 

Pete eyes the curve of his neck, before finally standing up straight and walking into the kitchen properly, to take a seat in the chair as Patrick continued attempting to make himself breakfast.

 

"Most of us do. I decided I'd rather stay up and...get to know you, rather than sleep. I wouldn't want you to be bored, all locked up like this."

 

"You could always let me go outside or something," Patrick said, before he sat opposite Pete with his food, making a show of taking the first bite.

 

"Yeah, I'll just let you wander around here, when some of my people are light sleepers, and love midnight snacks. Or maybe I'll let you go where we can't follow, so you can run away and the treaty will be broken before it’s even completed."

 

Patrick swallowed his food and narrowed his eyes at Pete, "I'm not going to run away, you dick, I want this treaty to work, even if it means marrying you."

 

Pete didn't say anything for a moment, before switching tracks, "how old are you, anyways? You look like you're not old enough to be out of your parents' home."

 

Patrick blinked at the change in topic, before becoming offended, "I'm seventeen, and fuck _you_ , you have no right to mention my parents."

 

Pete's been alive (or rather, undead) long enough to have gained some sense of tact, but not enough to apologize. "Well, I was twenty five, maybe twenty six when I was changed, and I've been a vampire for, hmm--maybe two hundred years? I've lost track, at this point."

 

Patrick, still upset, scoffs, "you don't look twenty five to me. And what's with all the eyeliner?"

 

"One, it's _guyliner_ , thank you, and two, I've been alive longer than you no matter how you choose to view me, and you're in my house, so you damn well better respect me."

 

Patrick narrows his eyes, and they stare at each other for a moment before Patrick looks away first, "fine, oh master of the house, I'm sorry I insulted your 'guyliner.' Are you going to forgive me or will you make me grovel first?"

 

Pete smirks, eyes Patrick's neck again before shaking his head and standing, "no, I'll save that for more fun occasions. You finish eating, I'm going to go shower, and then we'll learn more about each other."

  
As he walks out of the room Pete can't suppress a smile when he hears Patrick mutter, "oh _j_ _oy_ ," under his breath.


	4. Chapter 4

Thirty minutes later Pete comes back, following the sound of Patrick moving around, and sees him sorting through the clothes, making disgusted noises as he does. This time he coughs quietly, letting Patrick know he's here.

 

Patrick looks up at him and huffs, gesturing to the scattered piles of clothes, "who the hell picked these out? I can't wear any of these, anyways, because they don't fit obviously, but still. Was the person who owned these color blind?"

 

Pete frowns (he's _not_ pouting), and looks down at his own clothes, "those are all mine, and I'd rather you didn't insult my taste again."

 

Patrick rolls his eyes and stands, gesturing down at himself, "yeah, well, it doesn't change the fact that I'm shorter and pudgier than you. I can't wear these."

 

Pete blinked, looking down at the clothes and then back at Patrick, "they look fine to me, but fine, I'll bite. What do you want me to do about that?"

 

Patrick folded his arms, making the shirt raise just slightly as he did, "well, seeing as you're marrying me, maybe you could get me some clothes that fit--you don't even have to let me out on my own, just find someone to take me into town to get some, or something."

 

Pete drums his fingers against his folded arms, and then sighs, "I'll take you tonight, how's that? I need a few things anyways."

 

And then, suddenly devious, he says, "are you a virgin? I'd hate to dress you in white only to find out you're not as pure as they promised."

 

Patrick sputters, turning a pretty shade of pink, "what the-you can't just _ask_  someone that, and white's only for the bride, you ass. I'm not wearing a dress, and you can't make me."

 

"Yes I can, it's my house, and besides that, you're mine now. I think you'd look pretty in a nice white dress. Although as short as you are, I don't think a full length would suit you--maybe something knee high." He's smirking while he says it, clearing enjoying himself, and Patrick's getting steadily redder, and annoyed.

 

"I don't belong to you--we're supposed to be equals, or whatever, and I'm not wearing any sort of girl's clothes. That looks more like your type anyways, judging by your girl jeans and eyeliner-sorry, your 'guyliner,'"

 

Pete didn't move, but inwardly he did snicker, pleased that the kid could talk back, "you're excused," he said mildly. "But still, I have an eye for these things, and a white dress would go with your complexion better. If you really don't like it though, we could always offset the innocence of the dress with some nice red lingerie--or maybe blue, to match your eyes."

 

Patrick narrowed his eyes, fists clenching, "you try to put me in that, there isn't going to be a wedding night, because I'll kill you."

 

Pete moved forward suddenly, which made Patrick back up, until he was cornered, and Pete leaned down to look him in the eye, "you know, threatening to kill a man in his own house, after repeatedly insulting him, isn't giving me a good impression." Pete inhaled deliberately loudly against Patrick's neck, "you should know better than that."

 

Patrick shuddered, and he subconsciously tilted his head in submission, making Pete stare, "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to--to insult you, and I definitely didn't mean to imply that I could kill you. I'm still not wearing a dress of my own volition though."

 

Pete, after a moment, backed up, to give Patrick some space, "I still have a few weeks to convince you, that's fine. And I'll take you to get proper clothes tonight, unless you have some clothes from an old home you wanted?"

 

Patrick studied him for a moment before nodding reluctantly, "there are a few things I'd like to pick up, yeah. It's not like they gave me much time to grab what I needed."

 

Pete nodded and patted Patrick on the head, "I don't suppose some of those things would be hats, would they? I don't think I've seen you not wearing one--did you sleep in it as well?"

 

Patrick swiped at Pete's hand half-heartedly, "so I like hats, so what? And what me and my hat do in bed is none of your concern."

 

Pete laughed, and quickly patted Patrick on the cheek, brushing a finger over his mouth lightly as he did, almost like it was an accident, "just wanted to know if you'd be wearing it on our wedding night dear, but if that's your thing..."

 

Patrick made a face, before shaking his head, "yeah, well. I guess you'll just have to find out. Now is there anything we can do in this place, or are you just going to crowd me against things while I slowly die of boredom? Because I can't see anything in these rooms worth doing--you don't even have a TV or anything."

 

"Well," Pete says, drawing out the word, "I suppose I could show you around the house, introduce you to people who are still awake. It'll make it easy for them to know that you're a resident now, and not a snack."

  
Patrick swallowed hard, but didn't react otherwise, "yeah, anything's better than being locked up all day. Show me around then, Peter."


	5. Chapter 5

Pete involuntarily made a face, before grabbing Patrick's hand, "first rule of the house is don't call me Peter-- that was my father. You can call me Pete, I guess--or you could go back to calling me master, that was nice too."

 

Patrick dug his nails into Pete's hand in response, giving him a sickly sweet smile, "that's never going to happen, Pete. We're equal, according to the treaty."

 

"This is still my house though, and I'm still older than you, so, not equal." Pete inwardly cringed as Patrick paused, looking at him oddly.

 

"Are you going to stick your tongue out at me as well? Because that response wasn't very 'two hundred year old vampire' of you. At least I'm acting my age when I do something like that."

 

"Yeah? What's your age again, twelve? Because that's how old you look."

 

Patrick made another face, pulling away from Pete's hand to cross his arms over his chest, a bit self-conscious, "yeah, well, you want to complain about what I look like, call the leaders up and ask for a different human to marry--one that doesn't look twelve and disobey you."

 

Pete rolled his eyes and grabbed Patrick's arm, dragging him out of the rooms before locking them, and looking down at Patrick. The lighting in the hallway was dim, but he could still see the stubborn look on Patrick's face, and he sighed, "I'm not going to get rid of you. It'd mean weeks more of treaty discussion, and then they'd probably have me choose, or give me someone worse than you. And I don't mind you, despite your attitude. I'm glad you're not subservient, at least. That gets boring _very_  quickly."

 

"Oh, well in that case, I'm _very_ happy to not bore you. Now were you going to show me around or not? Because standing in the hallway where I can barely see anything isn't very appealing to me."

 

"I can see you just fine--must be your puny human eyes not working right. Now c'mon, I'll show you the living room first I guess. But, oh, in case I forget later-- don't go into the kitchens. There's a reason there's one in your suite, and you can do whatever you need using that; you don't need to go into my main kitchens, and I wouldn't recommend it anyways, not unless you enjoy the sight of blood."

 

Pete could feel Patrick trembling slightly at the warning, and he was reminded of Patrick's words before, about his parents-- did they _really_  send him someone who was barely legal, whose parents were most likely killed by a rouge vampire? He's going to have words with them when they meet for negotiations again.

 

Not because he _c_ _ared_  about the kid though. More so about the fact that Patrick could've been a hardcore vampire hater, and try to kill him in his sleep. They didn't even think about that, and he's not happy with them for their lack of foresight.

 

He takes him down the staircase, and through the hallways, and Patrick sticks tight to his side, incredibly tense and wary as they pass occupied rooms, until they reach the living room. The room was more brightly lit than the others, and its seemingly empty, which made Patrick relax, and Pete motioned him inside, leaning against the doorway as Patrick investigated.

 

"Well? Is this more of interest to you than your room," Pete asked, only half paying attention to Patrick, on guard just in case anyone came close. No one would _try_  to fight him in his own home, but after years of clawing his way to the top, he wasn't about to let the thought make him drop his guard.

 

Patrick had gravitated toward the piano, meanwhile, and was stroking a hand over its cover, "hm? Yeah, it's-- unexpected. I wouldn't have thought you'd have a room all modern like this, I guess."

 

"You can try it, you know. I can't really play myself, but I know Brendon keeps it in tune. Do you play any instruments?"

 

"What? Yeah, I can play a little. Just, you know. Piano, guitar, drums, stuff like that," Patrick replied absentmindedly. He opened the piano carefully, and took a seat, fingers settling against the keys easily, and he began playing absentmindedly, eyes focused on nothing.

 

Pete stayed silent, listening to him play, and he was enraptured as the music seemed to echo around the room. If he had a need to breathe he'd be breathless. When the last few notes died away, he blinked and shook his head free of the fog, before he cleared his throat. "Well, if you can play the other instruments as well as you played the piano, you're certainly on your way to becoming famous."

 

Patrick blushed with pleasure from the praise, and shook his head, "it wasn't really anything that good, just a thing I was working on before. I, um. I used to be in a band, before all the fighting started. Do you want to try it? Or, wait, did you want to show me the rest of the house?"

 

Pete licked his lips, and visibly had to shake himself, to get under control. "Like I said before, I don't play the piano. I think we have some other instruments in the music room though, if you'd like to go there next? I'd like to see how well you play the other things you mentioned."

 

Patrick huffed, and stood, carefully shutting the lid of the piano before walking back to Pete, "I'd like that, but prepared to be disappointed. I don't think we have the same music taste."

  
"Well, we won't know until you play for me, now will we? C'mon kid, let me take you to the music room."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this fic; it's got 40,000 words now, and I'm going to try to update at least once a day. Once again, please let me know if anything needs to be tagged, or if you have any criticisms or thoughts!
> 
> My tumblr is fandomanon.tumblr.com if you want to follow me or ask questions!


	6. Chapter 6

Patrick managed to stick to Pete's side as soon as they were out of the living room, and he looked up at Pete as they walked, his eyebrow arched, "you know, calling me 'kid' just makes you sound really creepy. Like, I know I'm younger than both your physical  form and your actual age, but calling me that just makes you seem like you enjoy the fact that I look young."

 

Pete choked, and smacked the back of Patrick's head, "Jesus, if you didn't want me to call you that you didn't have to say that, Pattycakes."

 

"Okay, no, you can't call me that either. It's really creepy and also not happening."

 

"What can I call you then? I like using nicknames, what can I say. It makes people more memorable."

 

"You can call me by my _name_ , that will work just fine for me. And if you don't call me by that, I'm going to call you an asshole."

 

Pete frowned at Patrick, who gave him a remarkably angelic smile, "it's not an insult, it's a nickname, so I should be allowed to call you that."

 

"You call me that, I'm not taking you to the music room, and I won't let you touch the piano again." He meant to come off as teasing, but Patrick flinched, hunching in on himself and leaning away from Pete, just enough to be noticeable.

 

"Okay, I won't call you that--I'll be good, I promise."

 

There was an awkward silence that settled upon them, and they didn't speak until they began to hear faint strains of music coming from a room. Patrick stiffened up and stopped moving, and Pete turned back towards him, gesturing him forward.

 

"No one's going to bother you, not when you're with me. And besides, you'll need to meet my coven sooner or later, and you wanted to see the music room, so come on. Don't make me have to carry you."

 

Patrick made a face, before taking a few hesitant steps forward and follows Pete into the room, which, like the living room, is also brighter than expected. It takes a few moments for Patrick to adjust to the light, and when he does, he notices that Pete's stepped aside, letting the people in the room see him unobstructed.

 

Just seeing them all made him feel _tiny_ , which wasn't very appreciated. Why did vampires all have to be taller than him, honestly? At least it seemed like they were all taller than Pete as well. One of them, who was previously playing the piano, looked at Patrick and grinned, before bounding forward, stopping only when Pete gave him a warning look.

 

"So, this is human you're marrying, huh? Well, they got one thing right, with him being tinier than you. But he looks pretty young too. I'll tell you what though, he's got a really pretty--" the man, who looked at least a little older than Patrick, was abruptly shut up by a taller and older man clamping a hand over his mouth.

 

"Sorry about Brendon," he said. "He's just a little excited, meeting new people." The man then made a face, and pulled his hand away; it seemed that Brendon had licked it, judging by how he wiped his hand on his pants.

 

Brendon grinned at him mischievously, before sticking out his hand to Patrick, "ignore Dallon, he's a stick in the mud. I'm Brendon, what's your name?"

 

Patrick eyed his hand warily, before shaking it slowly, "I'm Patrick, it's nice to meet you Brendon." He decided to ignore what Brendon was going to say previously--he didn't want to know.

 

When they had broken off, others came forward, introducing themselves to Patrick, and he slowly relaxed, because they all seemed friendly, and Pete was at ease. If all of the coven were like them, he wouldn't mind staying here, and marrying in.

 

After Brendon came Gabe, who grinned at him, and offered to let Patrick meet his cobra, and then Travie, who shoved at Gabe's shoulder, and assured Patrick that Gabe was, "actually talking about a real snake, not something weird."

 

After Travie came William ("Call me Bill"), who told Patrick that he was the oldest in the house, but, "it got boring leading everyone, so I let my favorite little fledgling vampire take control." It made Pete blush, and left Patrick in a fit of giggles.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Andy and Joe were introduced next, and Patrick frowned, looking at Joe, before, "hey, wait a minute-- Joe, as in Joe Trohman? Oh man, I haven't seen you in _ages_."

 

Joe grinned, pleased, and dragged Patrick into a hug, thumping him lightly on the back, "hey Patrick. If I had known you'd be the human chosen, I would've locked all the doors and kicked you out myself."

 

They grinned at each other, and it was only after Pete growled, low enough that Patrick couldn't hear, that Joe stepped away, and motioned to Andy with a flourish. "This, my old friend, is Andy. He's the guy who turned me."

 

Patrick eyed him, and then stuck out his hand, smiling at Andy, "well, hi Andy. I hope you're taking good care of Joe. He needs all the help he can get."

 

Andy grinned, and leaned up to ruffle Joe's hair, "yeah he does. You should've seen some of the things Joe got into when he was first turned. He kept getting his fangs stuck in things."

 

Joe yelped and punched Andy on the arm, and everyone in the room chuckled, Patrick looking around the room and relaxing, even as Andy tugged Joe down into a quick kiss.

 

Patrick smiled at them, and, abruptly, Pete began to feel just a bit jealous. He didn't like how Patrick (and Patrick was his, had been since he first arrived) looked at Joe, nor how Joe was looking at him. Granted, they only seemed like friends, and Joe did have Andy, but still. Anyone getting more attention than him from Patrick was automatically treated with suspicion.

 

It was only because he wanted the treaty to go through, of course. Nor did he want Patrick cheating on him--that would cancel the treaty as well.

 

Pete coughed lightly, to get Patrick's attention. "You were going to show me what instruments you play?"

 

Patrick smiled, and adjusted his hat self-consciously, before eyeing one of the guitars, which Joe grabbed and offered to him. Looking back at Andy, Joe explained, "Patrick tried out for a band I was in, before you turned me. Granted, he was trying out for drums, but he could play the guitar pretty damn well too."

 

Patrick shoved Joe with a laugh, cradling the guitar carefully as he checked it's tune. When he deemed it okay, he bit his lip to keep himself concentrated as he quickly started to play "Life on Mars." He was completely absorbed in the task, and Pete couldn't take his eyes off of him. No one could.

 

When he finished they all had figurative hearts in their eyes, and Joe took the guitar from him carefully, being the first to speak, "so, hey, now that you're gonna be here, we could always do that band we wanted to do before."

 

Patrick smiled at him, and rubbed his neck, "I'd be good with that. We'd still need a singer though. And a bass player. And a drummer."

 

Pete narrowed his eyes, before composing himself, grinning widely at all of them before he grabbed Patrick's arm. "You'll have to talk about this later--for now I need to show him the rest of the house, so he doesn't get lost if he wanders off by himself."

 

Andy gave him a knowing look, and Brendon snickered, dragging Patrick into a quick hug, "well, it was nice meeting you Patrick. You have to come back sometime, we can jam out together." He winked, and let Patrick go, before dragging Dallon back over to the piano.

 

As the door shuts behind Pete and Patrick, Pete can barely hear someone (probably Gabe, knowing him) say, "you know, if the treaty doesn't go through I'll take him if Pete doesn't."

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Pete's not jealous, he's just. Annoyed, that one of his closest friends thinks that this treaty won't happen, perhaps. And besides, Gabe already has a veritable harem. He doesn’t need a tiny human to add to it.

 

Pete takes him through to the sitting room, and then around to his study, before pointing out where the 'dorms,' where most of the vampires who weren't close friends slept, cautioning him to avoid the rooms, for his own safety. When they were finished with the tour Pete took him back to his room, so he could eat lunch.

 

"I'm going to sleep for a bit, but you can knock on the door if you need me, okay? And tonight I'll take you to get some new clothes and whatever else you need to pick up."

 

When Pete came back it was sunrise, and Patrick was curled up on the bed, sleeping quietly. Pete watched him for a moment, before knocking loudly on the wall, making Patrick jerk away with a yelp. Patrick squinted at him and scowled, before he yawned and rolled off the bed.

 

When he was standing Pete grinned at him, nodding at his hat, "so, I guess you do sleep with it, huh?"

 

Patrick frowned in confusion, before his face cleared in understanding, and he scowled, punching Pete on the arm, "shut up, no one asked you. And how long were you standing there watching me sleep, huh?"

 

Pete leered at him, licking his lips exaggeratedly, "As long as you've been asleep. I've always watched you, Patrick."

 

Patrick punched him again, looking more than a bit embarrassed, "shut the fuck up, you could've just said you weren't there for long or something. Now let's get out of here-- I don't know how many stores will be open at this time of night."

 

Pete rubbed his arm, not because it hurt, but because it was a surprise--no human had tried hitting him like that in ages. "Many of them will, trust me. You don't close when leader of the vampires needs something from you."

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, but followed Pete far closer than before-- vampires were waking up, and he didn't want to get caught by one of them. When they got to the garage Pete motioned Patrick into a car that was bright red, with some kind of design on the hood. Pete beamed at it, and rubbed the hood carefully. "This is my car. You can tell because it has my symbol on it-- the bartskull. I created it myself. Doesn't it look cool?"

 

Patrick eyes it and nods slowly, "um. Yeah, of course it does. Is that why it was on some of the clothes in my room?"

 

"Yeah. It's the symbol of the coven as well-- DecayDance has it all over the place, practically. You know, if you want you can get it tattooed, rather than a ring. It'd make it hard to lose."

 

Patrick tried not to raise his eyebrows, and shook his head, "no, thank you though. I'm fine with a ring. I'm not old enough and I don't want a tattoo--no offense."

 

"None taken. Now hop in, you'll need to give me directions so we can pick up your stuff first."

 

Patrick got in and buckled up, and he was glad he did-- Pete peeled out, and Patrick held on for dear life, as Pete drove, shouting directions until Pete was in the drive of his old house.

 

They both got out, and Patrick rubbed his hands against the fabric of his jeans, before walking to the door and grabbing the spare key, motioning Pete inside, "you can come in, I guess. Let's just. Get this over with."

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Pete looked around-- the house was dark, and there appeared to be bloodstains on the floor. Patrick didn't look at the floor, however, he just stepped over the stains and went up the stairs, face very carefully blank.

 

Pete stays quiet, and follows Patrick up to his room, which is also trashed, and Patrick grabs some plastic bags, filling them with clothes, telling Pete, "can you get my guitars please? I don't want to leave them behind again."

 

Pete nods, and picks their cases up carefully, looking at Patrick, who's still stony faced, shoving his clothes into the bags before he grabs a few records and puts them in the bags as well, cradling them to his chest. "My drum set's down in the basement, but I don't really need that. We can go now."

 

"I can come back and  get it later, if you want? I'd hate to see it stuck here."

 

Patrick takes a shuddering breath, and nods stiffly, "thanks. Let's just. Let me put these in the car, and I need to grab a few more things, before we can leave."

 

Pete nods, and takes the guitars out to the car, putting them in the backseat as Patrick stores his records and clothes in the back of the car. Pete waits in the car while Patrick goes back to the house, and comes out a few minutes later, carrying a few picture frames, and, what looks suspiciously to be a stuffed animal.

 

Patrick locks the door behind him, and puts the key in his pocket, before sliding into the front seat, keeping the bag in his lap. "Right, let's just go. We can get clothes  wherever you want. I don't really know how much you want to spend anyways."

 

Pete nods, and drives much carefully this time, until they're in front of a mall, and Pete parks carefully, letting Patrick out of the car first before following. "So, what type of clothes do you like to wear? You want some more hats, too? We can get whatever you need." Pete pauses, looking at Patrick, who still looks vaguely unsettled. "C'mon, kid. Let's get you some pretty new clothes, to match your new role."

 

Patrick scoffs, but trails after Pete, eyeing the dark corners suspiciously, as if he expects someone to jump out at them. When they get into the mall Pete grabs Patrick's hand, dragging Patrick into the closet store, to look for clothes.

 

Patrick watches, bemused, as Pete grabs various clothes and shoves them at Patrick to try on, "hey," he says after a few minutes of watching, "do you even know what size I wear, or are you just giving me things based on how they look?"

 

Pete pauses, and grins at him, "whoops, guess you're right. What size do you wear then?"

 

Patrick rolls his eyes, and smiles reluctantly, "or you could let me pick out my own clothes, that's always an option. Your taste in clothes is pretty questionable, after all."

 

Pete narrows his eyes, and, in response, shoves more clothes at Patrick, "go try these on, you brat. If those don't fit I'll get you another size." His expression suddenly turns mischievous, "you need any underwear, huh Patrick? I could pick you out some nice ones, so you'll think of me when you wear 'em."

  
Patrick scowls, trying not to blush, and carries the clothes back to the changing rooms, not responding to Pete. He's an asshole vampire, who's trying to make this as difficult for Patrick as possible, probably.


	10. Chapter 10

Patrick does try the clothes on, in the end, and they aren't _that_  bad--just a little tight. He takes them back out and shoves them at Pete to put away, before he wanders off to grab his own clothes, in the proper size. These Pete calls boring, but buys anyways, sneaking a few of his choices in as well.

 

They stop by a few more stores, and Patrick buys a few more items, including new shoes and a few hats (as well as, admittedly, underwear. It was either that or let Pete buy him some, and no thank you. He'd probably try to give him panties or something, like an asshole).

 

Pete even takes him to a record store, looking ridiculously pleased when Patrick smiles at him, wandering around the store, and he buys a few records for him, to make Patrick feel better about going to his old house.

 

By the time they get out of the mall Patrick's more relaxed than before, bumping shoulders with Pete companionably, "hey. Thanks for taking me to get all this stuff. No offense, but I didn't want to wear your clothes any longer than I had to."

 

Pete huffs, looking at Patrick with offense, "what, you don't think I have good fashion sense? And you look good in my clothes."

 

Pete leered at him again, lingering on Patrick's ass, which made him blush, annoyed. "Could you stop mocking me? We're already getting married, you don't need to do all this, or whatever. It's a sure thing."

 

"Just want to make you happy, babe." Pete unlocks the car and helps Patrick put the clothes and records in the back again, before he opens the door, and Patrick punches his arm again before he gets in.

 

"What did I say about nicknames? Just call me by my--" he breaks off to yawn, before scowling again, "just call me by my actual name."

 

"Your wish is my command," Pete says absentmindedly, eyes searching the parking lot, because he thought he saw something. After a moment he shakes his head, getting in the car as well.

 

"You know, when we get married you're going to need to be able to stay up later than midnight. How are you this tired, anyways? You were taking a nap when I came and got you."

 

Patrick glares at him, and yawns again, looking annoyed, "in case you don't remember, I'm seventeen. I'm a growing boy, and this is the first time I've been able to sleep in a good bed in ages. I'm sorry that I'm boring you."

 

Pete glances at him when they're at the red light, and then reaches over to rub Patrick's head through the hat. "you're not boring me, don't worry. Just get some sleep or whatever. And hey, give me your key, will you?"

 

Patrick went from relaxing against the door to sitting stock still, staring straight ahead. "Why would you need that?"

 

Pete looks at him carefully, before starting to drive again, "so I can get your drum kit for you, that's all. I'm not going to do anything else." He pauses, before, "I promise, Patrick."

 

Patrick huffed and squirmed to get the key out of his pocket, before he put it in the cup holder and leaned back, shutting his eyes again, "just give it back after you're done with it. 's mine. The house is mine too, y'know."

 

Pete hummed, and turned on the radio, and soon enough Patrick was asleep. When they got back Pete almost didn't want to wake him, and, after a pause for thought, he didn't. Instead he called two of the younger vampires--Tyler and Josh, he thought their names were-- and got them to empty the car as he carried Patrick through the house and up to his rooms.

 

He noted that Patrick was a quiet sleeper, which was nice-- it meant that there'd be no added reason for his inability to sleep, when the time came, and he looked much younger and sweeter when he was sleeping.

 

When he got to the rooms he let Tyler and Josh in first, and had them set the items on the dresser and table before they made their way out. It was then that Pete set Patrick on the bed carefully, and, pausing, took his shoes off, as well as his hat, before pulling the covers up over him. He studied him for a moment, before shutting off the lights and locking the door behind him.

 

Pete then goes to his office to work--he still needs to get the rogue vampires under control, and make sure they all have a safe, non-lethal way to get blood, or else he'd be under fire from both sides for not fixing it. Thankfully though, he has his advisors to help him.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

When Patrick wakes up the next morning, he's a bit confused as to how exactly he got into the bed. With a rush he remembers what had happened the night before, and he bolts up, staring around the room wildly to see if everything was still there. It was, thankfully.

 

He gets out of bed, shoving his hat on as soon as he finds it, before searching through the bags until he found his glasses, which he jammed on his face so he could see clearly. He looked at the other bags, and rolled his shoulders back, before leaving the bedroom, instead going to the kitchen to make breakfast--he'll need something to do later, and so he'll put everything away after breakfast; he has a feeling that Pete wasn't going to show up anytime soon anyways.

 

At least now he's got his records and his guitars in case he gets really bored sorting clothes and cleaning up for himself.

 

When Pete finally did show up, Patrick had changed into some of his older clothes, more comfortable in them than the new, and he had bags strewn about the rooms, half empty. It seemed that he had gotten distracted, and was playing one of his guitars quietly, and didn't seem to notice that Pete had come in.

 

Pete was almost glad for it, because it meant he could study Patrick at his most relaxed, and he nearly choked on his tongue when he saw what Patrick was wearing. He dimly noted that Patrick was wearing glasses, when he wasn't previously, but what caught his attention the most was Patrick's jeans. They were worn looking, torn jeans that revealed his thighs, and Pete eyed the pale skin of them, wanting to just sink his teeth in and mark them up, make sure anyone who was looking knew that Patrick belonged to him.

 

He took a moment to calm down, before knocking against the doorframe, smiling at Patrick when he looked up at Pete, startled, and shoved his glasses back up his nose.

 

"I didn't know you wore glasses," Pete said interestedly.

 

Patrick shrugged and set his guitar in its case carefully, before bending down to pick it and the other case up to stand them over by the wall. Pete tried not to stare at his ass when he did, and failed.

 

"Yeah, I wear glasses. I didn't have a chance to grab them before the leaders grabbed me and brought me here--thanks again for letting me get my stuff, by the way. I appreciate it."

 

Pete was once again struck with anger at the human leaders, but he shoved it aside, and grinned toothily at Patrick, "it's the least I could do, making you wear my clothes yesterday. Speaking of, those don't look like anything we bought yesterday?"

 

Patrick colored and shrugged, shuffling his feet, "I didn't think you'd be coming by, and I wanted to wear something familiar--and that I could move easily in. I was planning on putting everything away, but, well. I got distracted."

 

"It's not like I can fault you--you haven't played in a while, right? Still, you're very talented." Pete tried to keep his voice neutral, a statement of fact rather than an opinion, and Patrick gave him a shy smile in return, ducking his head.

 

"Thanks. Do you play any instruments? You have too big of a music room for someone who doesn't play anything."

 

Pete shrugged, "maybe I do, maybe I don't. Maybe you should tell me what other instruments you play so I'll tell you what I play."

 

Patrick folded his arms and huffed, "seriously? I'm the younger one here, remember? But fine; I can play the piano and guitar, obviously, and the drums. I can also play like, upright basses, and I can kinda play the trumpet. So? What can you play?"

 

"I used to play the bass, although not well. And are you sure those are the only instruments you can play? Can you sing?"

 

Patrick shuffled his feet, and shook his head, “I can play a few more instruments, but not as well. And I can’t sing.”

 

Pete came closer and nudged him, “are you saying that because you know, or are you saying that because you haven’t tried? C’mon, you’ve got a good sense of tune, why don’t you try something?”

 

“I--fine, but don’t blame me if you suddenly go deaf or something. You have any requests?”

 

Pete grinned, pleased, and flopped back on Patrick’s bed to watch him, “you know the band Saves the Day? Can you do ‘Through being Cool?’”

 

Patrick nodded reluctantly and took a deep breath, before launching into the song, eyes squeezed shut so he couldn't see Pete's reaction to it.

 

It was a pity, too, because Pete looked absolutely entranced, sitting up and staring raptly at Patrick from the moment the song began (it was, admittedly, a rough start, but Pete could understand that) to the moment it finished, and Pete only had a few moments to get himself under control before Patrick opened his eyes.

 

"So, how was that?" He sounded more than a little uncertain, and Pete sent him a wide smile, to try and make him relax.

 

"That was wonderful; are you sure you've never sung before? Because you sounded like an angel."

 

Patrick when bright pink, and rather than responding he just fiddled with his glasses, cleaning them carefully. After a moment though, he muttered a thank you, and Pete beamed at him, hopping off the bed and moving over to him.

 

"So, now that we've discovered your talent at all things musical, what would you like to do today?"

 

Patrick looked around the room and shrugged, "honestly? I probably should put all this stuff away, and, I dunno, but it seems pretty boring so you don't really have to help. Shouldn't you be asleep anyways?"

 

"I don't sleep that often. It was the same way when I was a human. And I'll help you if you want--you never did let me see all the purchases you made last night."

 

Patrick worried his lip and nodded, before leaning down to pick up one of the bags. "Yeah, okay. Just stick the clothes in the drawers or wherever, and I'll put the records and other stuff away."

 

He paused for a moment, as if thinking, before, "are you going to let me keep this room when we're--like, when we're married?"

 

Pete had picked up some of the bags as well, and he didn't look at Patrick, "if you like," he said in a neutral tone. "After this we'll discuss what exactly this arrangement entails, because I doubt your previous leaders allowed you to read it before you were given to me."

 

Patrick wrinkled his nose, "could you not act like I was a-a gift, or something? I'm human and we're _equals_. Just because I couldn't read the treaty doesn't mean that I'm something to be given away you know."

 

Pete shoved some of the clothes in the drawer, before turning around to look at Patrick, who was rearranging the records. "I'm sorry to break this to you, but you literally were given away. That's the point of you, in fact. Are you telling me that you knowingly decided to becoming betrothed to one of the most powerful vampires in the United States?"

 

Patrick didn't move, didn't say anything, and Pete laughed, just a bit. "That's what I thought. Look, kid--Patrick. I like you fine, and I'm gonna damn well make sure no one tries anything, but you've gotta understand something; we're not equals. You are here because your 'wise leaders' decided to grab you and pawn you off to me so they had less mouths to feed. Just accept that and things will go more smoothly."

 

Patrick clenched his hands and began organizing his things again. It wouldn't do to throw something at Pete's head, not right now, at least. "Great, thanks for 'telling it like it is,'" Patrick said, voice pitched up in mocking anger.

 

"Is that why you decided to take me out to get new clothes? And why you let me play you songs? You're treating me like a pet that you want to show off, and I don't appreciate it, now that I realize it. Get out, please. I'd rather do this myself, and I'm sure you have much more important things you can be doing, rather than helping little ole me."

 

Pete took a deep breath and exhaled sharply, but evidently he didn't think a fight would be worth it, because he left the room, the click of the lock signifying Patrick was alone again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arguments are fun to write. Also, I've already written around 50,000 words, and this is nowhere near close to being finished, so I hope everyone is enjoying this!
> 
> Once again, please tell me if anything needs to be tagged.


	12. Chapter 12

Patrick took a deep breath, and then another, fists clenched as he glared at the wall, and wanted to throw something; more specifically, he wanted to throw a punch at Pete.

 

Why was he such an asshole? Seriously, first he was nice, and then he shut himself off. He showed he could take a joke before, and now he had a stick up his ass.

 

What did he expect from Patrick? He's seventeen, and, _fuck_ , it's not like he knew much of anything about vampires. He was chosen because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Pete acted like it was his fault for it.

 

Well, Patrick thought grimly, if that's the way he wanted to act, fine. Two could play that game, and Patrick's parents had always told him he was stubborn.

 

Pete was fine. Hell, Pete was more than fine. That's why he was pacing around his office, glaring at nothing in particular when he should be sleeping. It was a totally normal part of his routine in fact.

 

That didn't change the fact that he felt pissed; at himself, more than Patrick. Although, Patrick did annoy him, for telling Pete what to do, _in his own home_ , but he at least had a reason for it.

 

They both just needed to cool off, Pete thought, and abruptly the fight went out of him. He felt tired, and he sank into his seat, rubbing his temples slowly.

 

He _could_  kind of understand why Patrick was acting the way he was; he was just a kid, almost literally, and his parents had been killed at least semi-recently. He got a few allowances for that, but for everything else...well, Pete'd find a way to deal with it.

 

Patrick finishes putting everything away after thirty minutes, and spends at least ten minutes arranging and rearranging the pictures he took from his old house. He bites his lip when he's finished, before making the bed and flopping on it, dropping his glasses on the bedside table and dragging over the stuffed dog and curling around it, bored.

 

When he gets bored of that he sets the puppy aside and looks at his records, rolling off the bed to put one in, before he grabs some paper to start writing (or at least, attempting to) music, humming along with the record as he does.

 

It's boring, but he doesn't want to do anything else, and he almost wishes he had a computer with him, to use GarageBand; he idly wonders if he can convince Pete to get him one, before he frowns and crumpled up the paper and throws it at the trash can; he misses.

 

This _sucks_. If he were home he'd have snuck out to go see a band, or something. But he's not at home, and it's only-- two pm. Great, fucking great. He's going to die of boredom at this rate, and he doesn't even know what the fuck the treaty thing entails, or why they thought sending a person with a vastly different internal clock to live with a bunch of nocturnal assholes.

 

Pete's calmed down, and rereads the treaty once more before he makes a copy of it to give to Patrick; the sooner he reads it the better, because he's going to have to start coming to meetings, so they can iron out the contracts and sign them.

 

The thought gives Pete pause; if Patrick's seventeen, is he even able to sign a contract without parental consent? He knows that seventeen's the age of consent in Illinois, but that doesn't change the fact that eighteen is legal adulthood.

 

Well, this had better not wait until Patrick's eighteen; there's not enough time to waste on the proceedings and the quicker they're married the quicker he can let Patrick out of his sight.

 

He taps out a quick beat on his desk before standing and grabbing the copy he made, taking it to Patrick's room and knocking sharply, before unlocking the door with his key, and looking around for Patrick.

 

He spots him in the kitchen, and when Patrick sees him he gives Pete a mulish look, and he turns his head deliberately.

 

Pete rolls his eyes, and goes to the table, dropping the papers next to Patrick. "Read this, memorize it. You'll need to know this when I take you to the meetings tomorrow night. I'm going to leave now, so you can read it. Just put questions you have or things that bother you about it in the margins and we'll discuss it later, okay?"

 

Patrick makes a face, and raises his hand, "yeah, Mr. Wentz, is this gonna be on the quiz later? Cause, gee, I didn't bring my lucky pencil with me."

 

Pete sighs, stops himself from rubbing his temples again, “yeah, I get it. Sorry for acting like a teacher, kid. Just do it, okay? You wanted to see the treaty, and you don’t need me holding your hand while you do it.”

 

Patrick bats his lashes, and counters sweetly, “you sure about that? I mean, I’m just a weak little human, who’s not even smart enough to be considered your equal. Maybe I’ll have questions that I’ll need your superior intellect for.”

 

Pete growls at Patrick, who very valiantly doesn’t move away from him, before giving in and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I get it, you’re a pissy teenager who knows how to use sarcasm, that’s great. Just read the fucking treaty and we’ll discuss it later.”

  
“Yes _sir_ ,” Patrick says, and bats his eyes again and Pete pats him on the head condescendingly, ignoring when Patrick growls, and leaves, feeling Patrick’s eyes dagger into his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work currently has 50,000 words and is nowhere near being completed! But for now, I hope you enjoy the arguments, because sarcasm is very fun to write.
> 
> Also today's my birthday! This and other chapters I post today are my gift to you all <3


	13. Chapter 13

Patrick shoves his food aside when he hears Pete leave, no longer hungry, and he grabs the paperwork,  nearly groaning when he sees how long it is. Nevertheless he flips through it, half reading it.

 

Its mostly boring stuff that has nothing to do with him--just land agreements, and how the vampires are going to get blood, as well as how to deal with the rebels, and he doodles in the margins, feeling a bit spiteful when he draws a dick around Pete’s name--he half hopes this is the original copy he has to show the leaders, honestly.

 

When he actually gets to the part where he’s mentioned, his hand clenches around his pen. “In keeping with this agreement, one (1) human of Leaders Charles Revel, David Stewart, Christina Beck, and Michael Kirk’s choosing. This human will be healthy and of the age of consent, as well as being of sound mind…”

 

It went on and on, and Patrick just felt sick reading it. He _was_  right, and this agreement was shit; it was written as if he was a purebred dog they were selling, and he wasn’t getting much out of the agreement, not like Pete was.

 

Still though, he went back over it, more carefully this time, and actually took notes, underlining the bits he didn’t understand or didn’t like; this was definitely not going to be the final version of the treaty, not if he had anything to say about it, and he would fight tooth and nail to make sure he got his way, fuck anyone who tried to stop him.

 

When Pete comes back a few hours later Patrick’s still scribbling on the contract, having got up and grabbed more paper while he did, and Pete can see lines and lines of untidy scrawl on the sheets. Patrick looks determined, bottom lip between his teeth as he concentrates, and he doesn’t notice Pete come in, not until Pete’s sitting at the table with him, staring at him.

 

“You could have warned me,” Patrick said, not looking up from the papers, and Pete blinked, confused.

 

“Warned you about what, exactly?”

 

Patrick looks up and makes a face at him, gesturing down at the papers. “You could’ve told me this is basically a _trade agreement_ , with me as goods. This makes me sound like--like a fucking dog, or something that can’t talk or speak for itself. Like, what the hell?”

 

“I did tell you that, you just didn’t believe me. Now, what’s with all the notes you’ve taken?”

 

Patrick glances down at the papers again, before shoving some of them at Pete, “some of these are notes, but those--those are what I want written in. I’m not signing anything unless those are put in.”

 

Pete doesn’t look through them, just raises his eyebrow, “about that. You said you’re seventeen, right? Are you even technically allowed to sign contracts? Shouldn’t your guardian be doing that for you?”

 

Patrick’s hands tense on the table. “I don’t have any guardians, so I’ll probably be signing for myself.”

 

“Okay, that’s not how that works, first off. If anything they’d get another family member to do it--or make you a ward of the state, which means…”

 

Patrick groans and drops his head on his arms, “means they can sign for me, doesn’t it? God _dammit_.”

 

Pete does look a little sympathetic, at least. “Yeah, it does. Look, I’ll read through your demands, and when we go over there for the meeting I’ll see what I can translate into legal jargon and slip into the treaty, okay?”

 

Patrick peeks up from behind his arms and nods, before sitting up again, “thanks,” he says grudgingly. “I just--this original is basically stripping me of my rights, and, like. Like, it looks kinda like they’re trying to make it so you have all responsibility for me, which is annoying, I guess. But also the fact that the treaty is broken if something happens to me? It seems like, I dunno, they might be planning something.”

 

Pete has a blank look on his face, but nods for Patrick to continue, “just--okay.” Patrick shuffles the papers around, before clearing his throat, “it says here that ‘Leader of the Vampires Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third’--nice name by the way-- ‘must protect the betrothed human with his unlife, and, if he fails in this task, and the human is injured or killed, the alliance between the humans and the vampires is broken, and war will be waged.’”

 

“Not only is this incredibly vague--like, it could be talking about me tripping and spraining an ankle or something, but it’s also incredibly suspicious. Because before all that, this treats me like I’m a shiny new toy for you to play with, but this wording right here makes it sound like they’re going to plan to have me kidnapped or whatever after we’re married, and then use that as an excuse to start killing people. Y’know?”

 

Pete drums his fingers on the table, thinking, and he nods, looking serious, “I found that odd as well, and was planning on changing the wording of that. Now we’ll definitely have to. I’d ask to take the clause out, but in all likelihood they’d say I was planning on eating you, or something, as soon as we were married.”

 

Patrick gives him a startled look, and Pete shakes his head, “I wouldn’t actually eat you, don’t worry.”

 

Patrick squirms in his seat, stretching slightly, “I’m not worried about that--although, according to this, you are allowed to bite me, with or without my consent,” he said, sounding bitter.

 

Pete takes the papers from him and looks where he’s pointing, and shrugs his shoulders, “that was one of their clauses, not mine; I don’t bite anyone without permission.”

 

“Look, as much as I’d like to trust you, and all, I’d really just rather it was taken out entirely. I don’t want my consent stripped from me, okay?” He sounds pleading, this time, like he’s actually expecting Pete to say no, or laugh, and he looks even younger than he sounds when he says it, eyes trained on Pete’s face.

 

Pete gathers the papers up in a neat pile, and nods, “I already said I’d look through what you want and see what I can do--I’m not a bad person, and I’m not about to make anyone in my house feel like they can’t say or do what they want.”

 

“But we’re not equals,” Patrick said bitterly. “You’ve already said _multiple times_  that I’ll never be your equal. And seeing as I’m probably not signing the stupid thing myself, you could write anything in and I’d have to agree to it.”

 

Pete tries being patient, taking a deep breath and then exhaling quietly, “but I’m not going to do that, because I’m not a complete asshole. I’m not going to bite you, or fuck you, or anything like that, without explicit consent, you got it?”

 

Patrick snorts, and doesn’t look at him, “well, you better take that clause out of the treaty too, then. Did you know, when they picked me up they didn’t even ask if I liked guys? I don’t know why I’m surprised, seeing as they didn’t ask if I liked vampires either.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, please let me know if anything needs to be tagged; Also, you can follow me on my tumblr @ fandomanon.tumblr.com


	14. Chapter 14

Pete cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter now. “Do you like men? I have a right to know, seeing as I’m marrying you.”

 

Patrick tried not to blush, and failed, fiddling with his hands. “I haven’t really had a chance to look into it,” he says stiffly.

 

Pete tries not to feel relieved at his vague response, and clears his throat again, not liking the awkward silence. “Well, that’s. That’s something to keep in mind, I suppose. You’re going to need to tell me before we get married, though.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that when I find out. I’m sure they’ll let you give me back if I’m not to your liking. That’s how these sort of things work, right?”

 

“Sure, lets go with that.” Pete pauses as a thought occurs to him. “Don’t go around kissing anyone to check if you like guys or not.”

 

“Can’t, even if I wanted to, ‘s in the contract. They _really_  wanted to make sure nothing went wrong on their end--in a way that means I can’t do anything that could be considered ‘naughty’ or whatever.”

 

Pete tried not to picture Patrick being naughty, and failed. Thankfully, he’d been around long enough to not feel guilty about it, and keep his face blank and impassive while doing it, so Patrick didn’t realize.

 

Patrick does give him an odd look after a moment, and Pete shook his head, “yeah, I noticed that. Like I said before, I’ll see what I can do. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss about it?”

 

Patrick drummed his fingers on the table, not looking at Pete. “Yeah, actually. Um. It’s about the whole, y’know-- bed, thing.”

 

Pete blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, so please elaborate.”

 

Patrick sighed a little impatiently, cheeks tinged pink, and gestured over to his bed. “I just meant. Are we gonna have to share after we’re married? It doesn’t mention anything about that in the contract, at least, but. Well, I wanted to know if I was gonna keep these rooms, or move in with you. Cause this is just a marriage of convenience, right?”

 

“Well, yes,” Pete said slowly. “But, you have to understand; vampires typically mate for life.”

 

At Patrick’s stricken look, he hastened to continue, “that’s not to say you’ll be forced to do anything you don’t want to do; just, understand this: the whole ‘cheating clause,’ is moreso for my sake, than yours. Because I’m not going to sleep with anyone while we’re married, and I’ll be, ah. More than a little protective, and possessive. It’s why the whole protection clause in the contract isn’t really needed.”

 

Patrick fidgeted, and nodded, “Oh. Okay then.” He flushed darker, when his voice broke on the last syllable. “Does that mean-- what exactly does that entail, then?”

 

“Nothing you don’t want to do. The wedding’s a more formal part of it, but, well. I will have to mark you, to make sure people know that we’re--together.” Pete paused, considering if he wanted to lie, before deciding against it. “It doesn’t have to involve sex, so if you decide you don’t like men, I’m not going to do anything to you.”

 

Patrick’s shoulders slumped in relief, and he sighed, “that’s. That’s really good. Thanks for telling me.” He laughed nervously, “but, uh. What exactly is marking? Do you mean you have to bite me?”

 

“Yes, I will; I don’t have to drink your blood though, if you’re uncomfortable with that. I’ve got more than enough bagged blood here, and on the way here for everyone who lives here. One of the perks of being leader. That’s pretty much it though. Any other questions?”

 

Patrick fidgeted, and shook his head, “no, nope, I’m good. It’s just. Good thing about the sex thing, right? Cause I dunno how well I’d do at that, and I’d hate for that to be the deal breaker.”

 

“Ah. You’re a virgin, then?” Pete tried to not sound as interested as he felt, and he felt he did a good job of it.

 

Still, Patrick gave him an odd look. “I mean. Yes? I just said I didn’t know if I was interested in dudes, and, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not the most attractive person in the world.” He gestured down at himself, and Pete was almost disappointed that he couldn’t see Patrick’s legs through the table.

 

“It’s just a question, relax, I’m not judging you or anything like that.”

 

Patrick huffs, and slumps down in his seat again, “yeah, well. It’s in the thing, anyways. ‘Blah blah blah, the human will be an assured virgin, blah blah blah. It’s to show that I’m not diseased, or whatever. Nevermind that I could’ve lied, or something, but yeah. That’s like the only thing they asked me, besides where my parents are, can you believe that?”

 

“Well, they didn’t bother asking if you liked men, are you really that surprised?” And then Pete smiles, teasingly, “still though. This is good information to have. Means we can get you kitted out in a white dress and it’ll still be okay in the eyes of God.”

 

Patrick yelped and punched him in the arm, glaring, “fuck no, I’m not wearing a dress, ever. I don’t care if that’s in the contract--which it’s _not_ \-- it’s still not going to happen. You want one of us to wear a dress, you can wear it.”

 

“Can’t, I don’t have the legs for it,” Pete said smartly, nudging Patrick’s leg with his own, “besides, I can’t wear white. Not only am I not pure, I’m also not human.”

 

“So then wear a black dress, or something. It’ll go great with your straightened hair and guyliner. Very emo chic. Very you.”

 

Pete snorted, and kicked Patrick’s leg again, “that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have the legs for it. You, on the other hand…” Pete leered again, and Patrick flushed, rubbing his thighs self-consciously.

 

“You’re not funny, so stop mocking me, you ass.” He paused for a moment, to let that sink in, before, “and the answer is still no. I’m not wearing any kind of dress, ever.”

 

When Pete opened his mouth to speak, Patrick continued, “ _and_ , I’m also not wearing any like, panties, or-- or a bra, or anything like that. Got it?”

 

“If you _say_  so. But if you ever change your mind, I’m gonna remember this, and I’m going to gloat.”

 

“Yeah, well, it’ll be a cold day in hell when that happens, so have fun spending the rest of your immortal life waiting on that.”

 

Pete blinked, and then smirked. “Well, did you know that there’s a town called ‘Hell’ in Michigan? So technically, it gets cold every winter, when it snows. So you’ll have to wear a dress sooner or later.”

 

Patrick huffed, and then changed the subject, “are you going to change me? Because, y’know, when we’re married and all…”

 

“Well,” Pete said slowly, as if weighing his words carefully, “I think that’s something we’ll have to discuss at the meeting; they may not want me to change you, after all.”

 

“Yeah, but I’m human; if I die, what’s gonna happen? And I’ll get old pretty soon and stuff.”

 

“Yeah, that’s a good point, but still; we’ll have to discuss that at a later time. If I was gonna change you I’d wait until you were at least a little closer to my physical age.” He paused, and then added, “although, I’d still make sure you were younger than me. Don’t want you trying to upstage me because you were turned later than I was.”

 

“Like I could upstage you, drama queen.” Patrick bites his lip, before looking down at the papers next to Pete. “I--I think that’s everything, then. Just. Look through what I wrote, please, and see what you can do.”

 

Pete nods, and then, on a whim, reaches forward and tugs Patrick’s hat over his eyes, “course I will. I’m not gonna leave you reliant on me, and I’m damn well not going to leave any weakness that they can take advantage of to start a war.”

 

Patrick glares at him when he finally gets his hat readjusted, and then he wipes his glasses off as well, biting his lip. “Yeah, well. Thanks. I’d appreciate it if you showed me your newer version before tomorrow or whatever too. So I know what I’m getting into and all.”

 

Pete nods, and stands, gathering the papers again. “I’ll make sure to make you an extra copy. I mean, I don’t want you to doodle dicks on the final draft of it.” He looks pointedly down at the papers in his hand, and Patrick flushes hard, sliding down in his seat.

 

“Oh my god, I forgot I did that. Why don’t you just kill me now, please.”

 

“Hey now, I’m not gonna kill my fiance; or would you prefer ‘betrothed?’ At any rate, I’m not gonna kill you, so you’re shit out of luck. Now actually eat something, I can tell that you didn’t while you were studying up, and I’ll do the same, deal?”

 

Patrick stood and smoothed his jeans out (Pete’s eyes on him the whole time) and nodded, grabbing his old dishes and shoving the now cold food into the microwave. “Yeah, deal. Bye Pete. Have a nice--midnight snack, I guess.”

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

After Pete left Patrick's room, he swung by the kitchen to grab a blood bag and heat it up before going back to his study to read through Patrick's notes.

 

His handwriting was legible, thankfully; Pete didn't want to have to go back and ask what everything meant, and he set the papers aside to drink from the bag quickly, before he licked his lips and dragged them forward again, grabbing a pen of his own to take notes.

 

Most of Patrick's demands were surprisingly simple; 'make this bit about injuries more airtight,' or all caps 'CONSENT!!' written where he obviously wanted some of the grosser wording changed. That would be easy enough to change; getting the changes to stick would be the harder part.

 

He snorted again when he saw the doodles Patrick had made--both around his name, and the other leaders' names-- before tapping his finger thoughtfully on one of Patrick's other demands. This one would be the hardest to change: 'ability to make own decisions;' Pete had a feeling that the human leaders wouldn't like that, especially if they were trying to keep Patrick under their thumb. They might bring up the fact that he was under eighteen, and then nothing would get changed.

 

Still though, Pete shook his mouse to take his computer out of sleep mode and opened the document that contained the treaty and a new document, before getting to work rewriting it entirely.

 

He absentmindedly thought that perhaps later he could get Patrick a computer of his own; for one thing, it would save on trying to decipher his handwriting, and for another, it'd help him not be quite so bored.

 

By the time he finished writing revisions it was eight o'clock, and he could hear doors opening, signifying people waking up. Which meant...

 

There was a knock on the door; right on time. "Come in," he said, and William and Gabe peeked in, looking amused.

 

They entered, and Travie followed in their wake, and took their customary seats, as Pete saved the document and looked up at them.

 

"So," Gabe said, grinning at Pete, "how's your fiancé doing? You gonna keep him locked up like Rapunzel forever?"

 

"Ha fucking ha, Gabe. I'm not keeping him locked up. I've taken him out to get new clothes and introduced him to you assholes, didn't I?"

 

"Uh huh. But where is he now? C'mon, he's a growing boy--literally, I hope-- and he needs interaction with people besides you."

 

"No offense, but I trust most of the vamps who live here about as far as I could throw them. I'm not gonna let Patrick have free roam and accidentally have him get eaten. And besides, who would you rather he interact with, you?"

 

Travie sighs, and leans back in his chair. "It doesn't have to be us. Brendon's definitely in control of himself, and he's musically prone like your boy seems to be. And hell, you already know he and Joe were friends. You don't trust them together then get Andy or Dallon to watch over them, it's that easy."

 

Pete frowned, and drummed his fingers on the table, “I don’t want him being bothered by people until the contracts are all signed.”

 

It was William who spoke next, laughing in disbelief. “You’re already possessive him, aren’t you? Well, I can’t blame you. He’s very fragile looking. Still though, you can’t keep him trapped forever--it’ll just foster resentment, as you and I both know well.”

 

Pete frowned deeper, and nodded slightly, “yeah, I’m more than aware. But we got along after a bit.”

 

William raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. “It took nearly fifty years for you to forgive me, and you weren’t even a teenager when I turned you. Teenagers can hold grudges more than adults can, especially this generation’s teens. Also, are you really defending yourself for acting like how I used to?”

 

Pete opened his mouth to answer, before closing it and groaning, “...no. Goddammit, I am acting like you did aren’t I? Why didn’t you stop me before?”

 

Gabe snickered, “what do you think this is? It’s an intervention, so you’ll chill the fuck out and let him off his figurative leash.” He paused, “well, I hope it’s figurative one. I don’t remember you being that kinky, but who knows.”

 

Pete flips him off, and stands, “fine, fine. I’m gonna need someone to come with me to pick up his drums, and then have Joe and Andy--and Brendon--grab Patrick and bring him to the music room.”

 

“If you like we’ll go with you to grab his drum set; you can leave Bill in charge, and no one will try anything. C’mon Pete, you really gonna keep him in time out forever?” Travie asks, looking between him and Bill carefully.

 

Pete narrows his eyes at Bill, who gives him a faux innocent look, “believe me, I’m not going to try anything. I gave over leadership to you for a reason, and I don’t want to go back. Just go get what you need and I’ll make sure your human is nice and safe. Cross my heart.”

 

Pete sighed and slumped in his seat, and nodded, wriggling to grab his key from his pocket and toss it at Bill. “Fine, you know where his room is, go grab him--not _literally_ , mind you-- and take him to the music room. Kick everyone out except Brendon, Dallon, Joe, and Andy.” He paused thinking for another moment, “but, if Tyler and Josh are in you don’t have to kick them out I guess.

 

“Gabe and Travie, c’mon, let’s go get that drum set. And maybe a few other things too.”

  
Bill took the key and stood, bowing with a grin, “don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your Patrick. You just worry about your trip.” He left the room before Pete could reply, shutting the door behind him.


	16. Chapter 16

While he walked through the halls he nodded at the vampires he knew, and even those he didn’t, before arriving at Pete’s rooms and unlocking the door. He locked it behind him before going to Patrick’s door and knocking briskly. When he heard Patrick moving around he unlocked the door, and took a step into the room.

 

Patrick blinked at him, and took a step backwards, confused. “You’re--Bill, right? Is something wrong?”

 

“No, nothing’s wrong. Pete just decided that you’d have more fun if you weren’t wasting away in this room. C’mon, I’m to take you to the music room.”

 

Patrick followed behind him, still slightly confused, but he allowed Bill to lock the door behind him, and when Bill noticed he was lagging just a bit behind, he grabbed Patrick’s hand to pull him along briskly. “Come now, no one’s going to harm you in this home. Not unless they really want to die.” He flashed Patrick his fangs in a grin, and Patrick flinched just slightly.

 

Bill didn’t seem to notice, so Patrick relaxed, and cleared his throat. “So, uh. How exactly did you and Pete meet, anyways?”

 

Bill grinned again, and slowed down, to speak to Patrick, “oh, he didn’t tell you? I’m his sire.” At Patrick’s questioning look, he explained, “it means that I was the one who turned him, all those years ago. We didn’t have the best relationship, but he’s mellowed with age, as have I.”

 

Patrick’s eyes widened, “wait, really? How old are you then--if you don’t mind me asking, I mean. And why aren’t you in charge, if you’re older?”

 

“You’re sweet, I can see why you were chosen. And I’m from the eighteen hundreds, or something like that. After a while you stop keeping track. And I’m not in charge because it was dull work; this way all I have to do now is advise, or have fun.”

 

Patrick let out a nearly silent, ‘oh,’ and Bill picks up the pace again, especially when he hears other vampires. “Do you mind me asking what you meant about your relationship with Pete?”

 

Bill waved his free hand in front of them, "oh, you know--I was bored and wanted a companion, and then he stumbled across my path. And, seeing as this was before vampires were actively known, well. I didn't need a human friend, so I turned him. He wasn't very happy with me; always fighting back and he refused to be nice. I didn't take it well, so I locked him up. We're close friends now."

 

When he saw Patrick's shocked look he elaborated, "don't worry; we're only friends. We haven't fucked in ages, I'm not about to try and steal him away from you. Although, if you ever want someone older and wiser..." He winked.

 

They arrived at the music room, and Bill threw open the doors, nodding at everyone in the room. "Right, everyone who hasn't been introduced to Patrick needs to leave, on Pete's orders."

 

There were a few grumbles as the people began to filter out, but with Bill glaring at them they didn't actively complain.

 

When Tyler and Josh went to leave Bill shook his head, waiting until everyone was gone before he shut the door, shoving Patrick further into the room. Joe waved at him, hopping off the couch and coming over.

 

"Hey, Patrick, nice to see you again. You get your guitar and stuff from your old house? I notice you're not wearing Pete's clothes anymore."

 

Patrick relaxed and nodded, smiling up at Joe, "yeah, I did. I left my guitars in my room though. I'll bring them next time."

 

"Well, until you do, you can borrow one of our's. And Pete's gone to pick up your drum kit, so hooray for more instruments," Bill said.

  
At that Andy looked up, and raised an eyebrow, "I'd love to see your setup when you get it put together again. That kit over there is mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, because this is the third chapter today; not to worry though, the next chapter will be long to make up for it! Once again, tell me if anything needs to be warned for, or any tags should be added, and thank you so much for reading this story <3


	17. Chapter 17

Pete, Gabe and Travie, meanwhile, are on their way to Patrick’s house. Thankfully they all have similar tastes in music, so they’re listening to it, with the three of them crammed into the front seat of the van; Travie was driving, and Pete had situated himself in Gabe’s lap, giving directions.

 

“Ah, this reminds me of the good old days, back when you were just a small fry, like the rest of us,” Gabe said, squeezing Pete’s hips.

 

In response Pete pressed back into his touch, and scoffed, “I was never a ‘small fry;’ I was Bill’s favorite when he picked me up, and I’ve known him longer than you two have.”

 

They had gotten to a red light, and Travie turned his head to look at Pete disbelievingly, “you may have known him longer, but you were still acting like a pissy teen when we met Bill, so don’t even front.”

 

Gabe interjected before Pete could speak, “now now Travie, don’t be mean; he wasn’t acting. He’s secretly a teenage scene boy trapped in a hundred year old’s body.”

 

Pete dug his nails into Gabe’s thigh and made him yelp, “shut up, you’re not funny; and we’re almost there, just take a left here and it’s the fifth house on the right.”

 

Travie snickered and followed the directions while Gabe bitched about his ‘totally painful nail marks that were going to scar and ruin his perfect skin,’ and then they were there. When they pulled into the driveway Pete hopped out first, Gabe following behind complaining that, “your fat ass put my legs to sleep Pete, I want to drive back so Travie has to deal with you.”

 

Pete ignored him, unlocking the door, and he still couldn’t get over the stains on the floors and walls of the house. Travie whistled when he first saw them, waiting for Pete to invite them in. “Damn, what the hell happened here? And your boy was living here until he was picked to marry you? Shit, that must’ve been depressing.”

 

“He didn’t mention if it was or not; he didn’t mention anything at all while we were in here, actually. Now c’mon, he said his kit’s in the basement.” Pete replied tersely, and Gabe and Travie followed him down, looking at the house curiously as they went.

 

“Who did this, anyways? You know what happened?”

 

Pete shook his head, and flicked on the basement lights. Thankfully, this room was clean of any stains, and they could get to work breaking down the kit. “No. Like I said, he didn’t mention what happened. I do know that his parents were killed by vampires though.” Pete paused, before saying more quietly. “You saw the pictures, didn’t you? Looks like he had siblings too. Either they don’t talk anymore or…” his voice trailed off, and Travie and Gabe flinched.

 

“Well, he’s helluva lot stronger than he looks, if he was living in here where his family died. Not to mention he’s doing remarkably well around other vampires. Guess I underestimated him.”

 

“Yeah, that’s because you haven’t seen him with me. Like-- he’s fine sometimes, but other times he gets pissy and spiteful or flinches when I try to do anything.”

 

Gabe paused in his disassembling to look at Pete. “You realize that you’re talking about a teenager, right? Its in their blood to be pissy and uncooperative. And if I’m guessing right, you haven’t exactly been the perfect host to him if he’s reacting like that.”

 

“And you just mentioned you knew his parents were killed by vampires, of course he’s gonna be wary, cut him some slack and he’ll cut you some as well,” Travie chimed in.

 

“And if you really don’t want to marry him, then don’t. Give him back to his leaders tomorrow night, say you want someone else. It’s that simple. They’re not gonna disagree because that would mean pissed off vampires breathing down their necks--literally.”

 

Pete sighed and leaned back against the wall where he was watching them work, “I don’t want to give him back though. I mean, you’ve seen the kid, and you’ve heard him play too. It’s not like they’re gonna give me anyone better than him, especially since they did just find him on sheer luck. And I’d feel bad, forcing him to come back here to live.”

 

Gabe snickered, “so what you’re saying is, you’re already half in love with him even if he can be bratty. And you think he’s hot.”

 

Pete groaned, rubbing his face in his hands, “of course I do. Have you seen him? His fucking mouth, and today when I went to visit him in his room, he had on these fucking ripped up jeans--his _t_ _highs_ , Gabe, fuck.”

 

Travie drops into a sitting position and laughs, loudly, “you’ve got it _bad_ , Pete. How long’s it been since you got laid?”

 

“I don’t even know dude. But, seriously, you know what he told me? He’s a _virgin,_  for fuck’s sake. And he hasn’t even kissed a guy before. That’s just. I can’t even imagine. And he’s smart as well. Plus-- _plus_ , he’s pretty fucking musically talented. You heard him play the guitar, right? He can also play the piano, and he sings like an angel.”

 

Gabe stands up and goes over to clap Pete on the back. “Well, it’s been nice knowing you. I hope you have fun that far up his ass.”

 

Pete shoved him, “hey, fuck you, I heard you saying the same damn thing about his mouth, don’t even try and mock me.”

 

Gabe conceded to that with a shrug. “Fair enough. We’ve got this broken down, we can move this into the back of the van. You need anything else from here?”

 

Pete shook his head, and helped Travie stand, and they carried the drums out to the van, and Pete locked the door behind them. “I need to go to the mall--don’t look at me like that, I need to buy some stuff.”

 

Travie mimed zipping his lips, and slid into the van, letting Pete climb into his lap as Gabe got in behind the wheel. “Right, of course you do. You gonna buy some wedding night lingerie? In white, of course, since you’re marrying a virgin.”

 

Pete’s face slid into a pout, not that he’d admit to it. “He refused to wear a dress, or panties. I was gonna write it into the contract, but.”

 

It was lucky the van wasn’t on, because Gabe snorted and dropped his head back against the seat and laughed hard, even as Pete went and punched him in the arm, hard.

 

“Shut the fuck up and drive, asshole. We’re going to the mall for a computer, not lingerie.”

 

“Not that you’re upset about that or anything. Look, you are the leader, right? Just write it into the contract, say the other leaders demanded it, and then you’re in the clear. Take pictures though.”

 

Pete growled, and Gabe finally started up the car. “I’m not taking any kind of pictures, and I’m not gonna write it in the contract; he’s already seen the most recent version anyways.”

 

“You’re nicer than I give you credit for, congrats Pete. Maybe getting married is gonna be good for you. I hope he finds out quickly if he likes dudes or not, or else you’re in for a high and dry life.”

 

Travie patted Pete on the shoulder when he groaned. “There there, you’ll always have your hand. And if he doesn’t want you to fuck him, he probably won’t mind if you fuck other people.”

 

Pete leaned back against Travie and kicked the van’s dashboard softly, “yeah, but then he might think it’s okay for him to sleep with other people, and there’s no way in hell that’s going to happen.”

 

Travie hummed in thought. “That’s what I thought. I mean, no offense, but you’re being really obvious about how you don’t like people getting attention from him. Joe thought you were gonna kill him just because he knew Patrick before you.”

 

“There’s just something about him. I dunno what it is, he’s just?” Pete just trails off, and they’re all quiet for a moment.

 

“So, you’re saying you’re in love with him? Because it sounds a lot like how you hear Andy talk about Joe, or Dallon and Brendon.”

 

Pete sighs, and shrugs. “I dunno. It doesn’t feel like love, more like lust. But, it could be, maybe.”

 

“Well, like I said before. Good luck. You fall in love easily, no offense, and I hope it lasts, and he reciprocates, or else you’re in for a shitty marriage, and deal.”

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

Patrick's fine, on the other hand. He's enjoying himself with the guys--it's nice to interact with more than Pete, even if he is tired, and he definitely missed talking to Joe.

 

"I still can't believe what a coincidence this is; how'd they choose you of all people to marry Pete?"

 

At that Patrick sobers up, twists his fingers in his shirt as he tries to think of an answer. Thankfully though, Andy's a bit more tactful than that, and nudges Joe.

 

"Don't question how the universe works, just accept it. Why don't you tell him how we met instead? It's a pretty funny story."

 

Joe snorted, “yeah, if you say so. D’you want to hear it Patrick?”

 

Patrick nodded quickly, glad for the subject change, “yeah, of course. I was wondering what you got up to when you just disappeared.”

 

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, “I didn’t disappear! I still visit my parents and everything. And it’s not like it was fast or anything. We’d been dating for a while when he turned me, so.”

 

Andy made an amused noise, and Joe flopped on his lap, shoving his elbow back into his stomach. “As I was saying. Y’know how all the good bands play at bars, right? Well, I had a fake id, and I got into one of the bars to see this band--I can’t remember their name at the moment, but they weren’t as great as they were said to be, so it doesn’t matter.

 

“Anyways, when their set finished I went back to get a drink, and this dude came up to me and offered to buy me something instead. I’d’ve took it too, but the guy was really fucking creepy. So I turned it down, and he got pissed.

 

“And I’m a skinny fuck, so this guy thought he could take me on, right? Because he may’ve been shorter than me, but he was older, and kinda buff; not the kind of guy you really expect at a venue like that. So he tries to intimidate me, and so I just react, and kick him in the dick.”

 

Patrick snorts, and then goes wide eyed. “Okay, that’s pretty funny, but I don’t see how you getting in a fight would be hilarious.”

 

“I’m getting to it, don’t worry. So, he goes down, right? Enough that I can slide between him and the bar to get away, and that’s how I end up by Andy, who had saw the whole thing. He looks at me, and I go, ‘you gonna offer as well?’ And then he says--”

 

“‘I don’t drink, but if you want I’ll make sure you don’t get your ass kicked.’”

 

“Yeah, exactly. Thanks Andy. So, he says that to me, and I realize quickly enough that this dude has already gotten up and was coming for me, and I accept his offer, not expecting him to do anything. But when this guy gets over to us Andy gets right in front of me, and like. You’ve seen Andy, he’s only a few inches taller than you, so the size difference between this guy and him was comical.

 

“He turns to me and says, ‘this guy bothering you babe?’ And I snort, cause babe, really? But I nod my head and the dude just laughs, gets up in Andy’s face. And Andy just. He just _flips_  him. He doesn’t even break a sweat.

 

“And so I’m just like, ‘shit, dude, how’d you do that?’ and Andy grins at me, and I see his fangs, and it’s like. Oh, that’s how. And that’s how we met.”

 

Joe paused for a moment, before, “oh, yeah. I asked if he was gonna bite me, seeing as he saved me and all, and he said he wouldn’t, because he doesn’t bite on the first date.”

 

“Yeah, and then Joe asked me if it was a date, and I told him I wasn’t going to date him if I didn’t know his name. That’s how we met.”

 

Patrick couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “That’s. Actually really sweet. I’m glad you met each other--even if you did stop replying to my calls.”

 

Joe winced, “yeah, sorry about that. There aren’t many phones here, and I wouldn’t have been allowed out anyways. I’m a newbie, and I’m not fully in control yet. Or rather, I wasn’t. Andy’s a good teacher though, and he helps with my control.”

 

“The trick is halving what you’d normally want to drink, and replacing it with coconut water. It helps wean vamps off just plain blood. Not to mention it’s cruelty free.”

 

At Patrick’s look of surprise Joe elaborated, “Andy’s probably one of the only vegan vampires. He hasn’t touched blood in like, fifty years or something. It’s awesome.”

 

“Well that’s good. But how did he change you if he’s vegan?”

 

Andy and Joe looked at each other, before Andy shrugged. “Special circumstances.”

 

If they weren’t going to tell, Patrick wasn’t going to ask them to elaborate. “Oh, that’s cool. Uh. Anyone else have any cool stories about how they met, or whatever?”

 

Brendon, who had been sitting at the piano, straightened up in his seat. “Ooh, Tyler and Josh should tell us how they met--they just arrived one day together, and no one knows how they got here,” he elaborated, when Patrick gave him an odd look.

 

William leaned forward in his seat, eyes locked on the two. “Yeah, that’d be quite the interesting story. Why don’t you share? If you go, I’ll tell how I met Pete.”

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

Tyler and Josh looked at each other, seemingly communicating silently, before Tyler spoke. “Well, it all started at a Books a Million. There was a Pokemon card tournament going on and I had some sick cards I wanted to show off and trade.”

 

Josh nodded, “yeah. I was there because I liked battling, but I got lost on the way, so I was like twenty minutes late, and I had to wait for people to finish so I could battle someone.”

 

“While he was waiting though, he was tapping out some sick beats, and it nearly distracted me, right? Like, they were really sick, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Luckily though, it also distracted my opponent, and that allowed me to win.”

 

“Yeah! And then he gathered up his cards and turned to me and said, do you wanna start a band? And I was like, okay. And that’s how we met.”

 

They were all silent in disbelief. “I--” Brendon started, and shook his head.

 

“Well, if that’s true, then how did you become vampires then?” Bill asked.

 

They just looked at each other again, “well you see, it all started at Taco Bell--”

 

“On second thought, I don’t want to know.”

 

They were still looking at Tyler and Josh oddly, before Patrick shook his head, and then looked at Bill, “you said something about how you and Pete met?”

 

Bill blinked, and looked at Patrick. “Yes, I did. Well, I suppose I should start at the beginning. I  was in England, you see, and I already had a sizeable coven of my own. But still, I was bored, because they weren’t the smartest of vampires. I wanted someone who could actually keep up with me, in terms of intellect, who was also pretty to look at.

 

“When I was out wandering the streets looking for my next meal, that’s when I saw him. He was stumbling out of a pub with some of his friends, and I knew I had to have him. But you don’t get as old as I am without being patient, so I waited, and watched him. I learned that his family had come to the New World to England because his father had a titled, and he was set to inherit. He was at Oxford, to make his parents proud, but he wasn’t very happy there, even if his grades were very good. That’s when I knew he’d fit the bill perfectly.

 

“So of course, the next plan of action was getting him alone. This was the easy part. I knew he had, ah, inclinations, so all it really took was going to his usual pub, and getting him drunk and flirting. Soon after that we stumbled out together and I took him home, and,” he pauses, looking at Patrick, “and then I bit him.

 

“He wasn’t very happy when he woke up, which was odd. Usually the people I sire like it. But of course, he was different. I can’t tell you how many times I had to stop him from trying to sneak outside. After a bit I had to just lock him in his room and bring him--ah, food-- so he wouldn’t starve.

 

“It took him, hmm. Five years, maybe? To settle down and start listening to me? And ten years after that for him to actually want to be friends with me. So, that’s my story.”

 

Patrick’s eyes were wide, and he bit his lip, “so, uh. If he was so antagonistic towards you, why did you let him take over?”

 

Bill grinned, “because he _was_ antagonistic. It was refreshing to have someone who spoke his mind, and knew what he was talking about. When I got bored of being a leader, he was my first choice. While we did butt heads, he listened to me before making decisions, and I knew he was powerful. He was obviously the only choice. Besides, I wanted to settle down with my mates, and needed him to take over while we honeymooned.”

 

“I--mates? You can have more than one?”

 

Bill leaned in closer to Patrick, to study his face, “yes, you can. Just because we mate for life doesn’t mean we can’t share.” He grins, and Patrick leans away quickly, trying not to show how much his fangs spooked him.

 

Patrick coughs, “well, that’s good info to know. Thank you for sharing? Um, all of you.”

 

William leans back and grins, satisfied. “You’re welcome. Now how about you and Brendon duet on the piano? Pete said you could play, didn’t he?”

 

Brendon drags Patrick to his feet and pulls him over to the piano, and Patrick laughs, letting Brendon pick out the music for them to play.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

Pete, Travie, and Gabe, on the other hand, were having just a bit less fun. They had already picked out a laptop, and Gabe had grabbed a camera. “You’re gonna need this, for when you get pics of your blushing bride.”

 

“No, no I’m not. Even if I did get what I wanted, I wouldn’t take any pictures. Especially not if you could get your hands on them.”

 

Gabe pouted ridiculously, and turned to Travie, “c’mon, you convince him, you’re good with this shit.”

 

Travie bit back a laugh, and turned to Pete, eyeing him up. “You know,” he said slowly, “even if you didn’t take pictures of that, you might still want some of him. Isn’t a wedding supposed to be memorable? Don’t you want memories that’ll last forever?”

 

Pete frowned, and snatched the camera from Gabe, looking it over, while Gabe snickered, “shut the fuck up, I’m not getting this for you. Travie’s right, that’s all.”

 

“Yeah, but we all know you’re not going to just use the camera for wedding pictures. Unless we’re talking about wedding _night_  pictures, in which case…”

 

He dodged another punch from Pete and laughed, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Just relax and get the camera already. Keep your memories and make new ones, so he doesn't just have sad pictures crowding up his room."

 

Pete opens his mouth, and then closes it again. "You--for an asshole, you're kinda smart about these things."

 

Gabe grins and ruffles Pete's hair. "That's what I get paid for! Now hurry up and buy the damn things, so we can get out of here. I don't wanna waste the night in a Best Buy when we could be doing something else."

 

"Blow me Saporta, it's your fault we've been in here this long. I had everything I needed."

 

"Yeah, and yet you're still buying that. You should be thanking me." He pauses, and his smirk turns wicked, "besides, I don't think your fiance would appreciate me blowing you. He doesn't seem like the jealous type, but who knows."

 

"He probably doesn't even know what type he is. God, he doesn't even know if he likes men-"

 

"Yeah, we know. Just relax, it'll all take care of itself," Travie said, and he grabbed the cart to steer it to the cash registers. Gabe hopped on with a cheer, and Pete had to hurry to catch up with them.

 

"Hey, why couldn't I have ridden on the cart? I've got smaller legs than both of you, and I'm the one paying!"

 

"You snooze you lose, oh fearless leader. Now get your card out already, times a'wasting."

 

Pete grumbles and kicks his leg, before flashing a fanged smile at the cashier, whose eyes widen before they quickly stare down at what they're scanning.

 

"Just for that I'm driving us home and you can be in the back."

 

Gabe hops off the cart and cuddles up to Travie, batting his lashes, "Travie wouldn't make me sit back there, would you?"

 

Travie ignores his clinging and takes the bags with a smile, "I'm not letting you sit in my lap, that's for sure. You say Pete has a fat ass but at least he's tiny."

 

Pete snickers as Gabe makes offended faces, and he grabs the bags, walking to the van. "C'mon, you wanted to leave, so let's leave. We need to go back to put all this stuff away."

 

Travie ambled along behind him, stealing the keys from Gabe as he did, and opened the van. "You're unusually excited to get home. Something happening there?"

 

"Yeah, and that something is Patrick surrounded by people who aren't you, isn't it?"

 

Pete puts everything away before lunging at Gabe and tackling him, and Travie leans back against the van to watch them tussle. "Now now boys, this isn't very fitting of vampires like yourselves to wrestle like little kids. C'mon, up you get."

 

He had to pull Pete off of Gabe, who was laughing loudly, and he set Pete down carefully, before giving him the keys. "You start up the van. Gabe, get your ass up, unless you want to sit in the back."

 

Gabe scrambled to his feet and grabbed Travie to shove him towards the van, "no, no, I'm good. Get in so I can get in your lap."

 

Travie grinned at him, "now why does that sound familiar?" He got in regardless, and Gabe got in as well, sprawling all over him and the rest of the seat.

 

Pete flicked his forehead, "don't crowd the driver, Saporta. And don't you dare touch the radio, driver picks the tunes."

 

Gabe straightened up and let Travie situate him properly, before reaching for the radio dial. Without looking, Pete slapped his hand.

 

"I said no. Don't even try. Travie, grab his hands for me, will you?"

 

Travie looked amused but did as he said, "you know, this whole conversation is ringing of déjà vu."

 

Gabe dropped his head back on Travie's shoulder and grinned at him, before blowing him a kiss. "You're right about that. Although last time, I'm pretty sure we were in a place much more comfortable than the front seat of the van."

 

Pete rolled his eyes and turned the music up, and soon enough they were back--it probably had to do with the fact that Pete broke multiple laws on the way, but he had his reasons for it.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

Travie and Gabe thankfully didn't say anything, but the looks on their faces said more than enough for them. Pete made a face but opened the back of the van so they could grab the kit and the Best Buy bags.

 

"Right then, we taking this to the music room, or what?"

 

Pete shook his head. "He can't play it if he can't get to it. Let's set it up in his room and then we can go to the music room."

 

"You're sure you don't wanna let him set it up himself so we can get there faster? You seem awfully jittery."

 

"To be fair, I'd be worried too, if I left the person I was marrying alone with a bunch of people who know embarrassing stories about me."

 

Pete stood stock still for a moment, before breaking out in a sprint. It made Gabe laugh, and then he and Travie followed at a much more sedate pace.

 

"Don't forget that we need to put this away before we go there Pete, unless you want to continue carrying your gifts?"

 

That made Pete slow down, and make a face at them. "Fine, fine. Hurry up so we can put this stuff down then."

 

Just to be contrary, they slowed down again. When Pete gave them a nasty look, Travie shrugged. "You don't want us to drop all this do you? Think of your boy's face when he realizes that we accidentally destroyed his drums because you wanted to be fast."

 

Pete groaned, and glared at them, “why did I think that bringing you two assholes would be a good idea? You never listen to me.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re glad we don’t, otherwise you’d be running free and wild with no one to remind you that you’re being a dumbass.”

 

Gabe shuddered, “can you imagine that? He’d have gotten us all killed if we weren’t around to knock some sense into him.”

 

Pete scowled. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Stop  mocking me and start walking. And stop making me look bad in front of my loyal subjects.”

 

“Aw, Pete, you don’t have to worry about us doing that. You do that just fine all by yourself.”

 

“...I hate you both so much.”

 

They snickered, and would’ve high fived if they hadn’t been carrying the kit. Pete made a face at both of them, before unlocking the door to Patrick’s room, and shoving them inside.

 

“Just put it all down carefully-- _carefully_ \-- and he can put it together when he comes back.”

 

Travie and Gabe looked at each other and smirked, before doing as they were told. When they had put everything down Pete was bouncing on his heels, glaring at them.

 

Travie rolled his eyes, “alright, we’re finished, c’mon, let’s go see how everyone’s doing. I don’t know what you’re worried about though. Bill would kill anyone who tried to bother them.”

 

Pete ignored him, and when they left the room he locked up, and went to leave, before Travie and Gabe grabbed his shoulders.

 

“Calm down, you don’t wanna seem to eager now do you? Unless you want to be mocked by everyone, not just us and Bill. Well, if you’re into that though--”

 

“I’m not, and don’t even try me Gabe, or I’ll spill about your fun little secrets.”

 

Gabe narrowed his eyes, but mimed zipping his lips, making faces at Pete’s back when he turned around which made Travie snicker behind his hand.

 

When they get to the music room the door’s locked, and Pete makes a face, knocking loudly on the door.

 

“Who is it?” Bill called out, sounding amused, “I’m under strict orders not to let anyone in.”

 

Pete huffed, “that only counted when it wasn’t me. Let us in, please.”

 

There’s a few more snickers before the door opens, and Brendon looks at them, batting his lashes. “Why hello, fearless leader. Why don’t you all come in.”

 

Pete scowled at him, and Brendon moved aside to let them all trail in. Most of the seats were taken, so Pete sat on the couch’s arm, while Gabe and Travie crammed in with Bill on the loveseat.

 

Patrick was in between Andy and Joe, which Pete ignored, even as Patrick looked over at him, “hey, can I have my key back, please?”

 

Pete blinked, and then nodded, “yeah, sure. Catch.”

 

Patrick fumbled to catch it, and sat back, “thanks, Pete.”

 

“Yeah, not a problem. Your drums are in your room, so you can set them out. What have you all been up to?”

 

Without his consent, Patrick found himself giggling, covering mouth as he did, and the others around the room couldn’t help but smirking as well.

 

Pete narrowed his eyes, “Bill, you better not have  been telling stories.”

 

“Who, me? Why, I would never tell stories about you. Or how you got your fangs stuck in a bloodbag. Or how you tried to rescue puppies. I would never tell stories like that.”

 

Pete makes a face, “thanks. It’s really nice to know you’re looking out for me, Bill, really. I don’t know what I’d be doing without you.”

 

“You’d probably be dead of old age without me, and you would’ve never met Patrick. Could you imagine that?”

 

Pete narrowed his eyes, and gave Bill a warning look, “what a tragedy,” he said, dryly. “I can’t imagine how I would’ve survived without your influence.”

 

Patrick giggled again, before yawning behind his hand, which made Joe nudge him. “Hey, it’s what, three? You’re probably exhausted.”

 

Pete stood, and stretched, before helping Patrick to his feet. “He’s right. And you’re going to have to stay up nearly all night tomorrow, for the meeting. You’re gonna need to sleep.”

 

Patrick let Pete help him up without complaining, and nodded, “yeah, I guess so. You guys have a nice night. It was nice seeing you all again.”

 

They waved, and Pete lead Patrick out of the music room. “We brought your drums, and I found you a computer as well. I figured it’d be easier for you to find things to do with it, and I have the new contract written up so you can look at it tomorrow. But for now you need to sleep.”

 

Patrick yawned again, and thought about leaning on Pete for help, but ultimately decided against it. “Thank you. I hope it didn’t cause you too much trouble--but I do appreciate it.”

 

“Nah, it didn’t. I was planning to get you one anyways, because, no offense, but your handwriting is pretty fucking hard to read.”

 

Patrick shoved lightly Pete and scoffed, “not my fault you can’t read something that’s totally legible, shut up.”

 

“Right, of course it is. You can set that up for yourself tomorrow, as well as your drums.”

 

Patrick nodded, and stifled a yawn again, leaning against Pete more heavily. “Yeah, thanks.”

 

Pete carefully wraps an arm around Patrick’s shoulders, and hurries him forward to his room, and he unlocks the door carefully, “well, here we are.”

 

Patrick untangled himself from Pete and nodded, before looking at Pete. “Well, g’night then? Thanks for everything, and all. It was nice to get to hang out with other people.”

 

“Yeah, I figured you might want to. Maybe you can later as well. Uh. Good night, Patrick, sleep well.”

 

Patrick smiled at him sleepily, and Pete swallowed hard, before leaving the room, shutting the door softly with a click. Well.

 

Maybe love wasn’t so far off after all. Goddammit.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who's subscribed to this, and reading this, I appreciate all of you very much!
> 
> Please let me know if anything needs to be warned for, and you can follow me at fandomanon.tumblr.com


	22. Chapter 22

It took Pete a few minutes of standing outside Patrick’s door before he shook himself out of his thoughts, and was able to go back to the music room. When he got back everyone was still there, relaxing-- Bill nodded when he got in, and smiled.

 

“So, you had fun tonight? I’ve heard some interesting stories from Gabe and Travie.”

 

Pete made a face at the three of them, and folded his arms, “traitors. What happened to what happens in the van stays in the van?”

 

“Oh Pete, that rule was broken ages ago. Now take a seat, and fill us in about everything that happened, and what you talked about.”

 

Pete did take a seat, but he shook his head. “Nah, I’m much more interested in what you told Patrick tonight.”

 

Brendon looked up, and went to nudge Pete with his foot. “We didn’t talk about much, just how Andy and Joe met. And did you know Tyler and Josh met at a Pokemon tournament?”

 

Pete blinked, “what. No, seriously, what? They told me they met during a train crash.”

 

Brendon dropped his voice, still well aware that everyone in the room could hear him. “We didn’t want to ask, to be honest.”

 

“Right, well. Anyways. What did you tell Patrick about me then?”

 

Bill raised an eyebrow, looking innocent. “Why do you think that we’ve told things about you? The world doesn’t revolve around you Peter.”

 

Pete made a face, and flipped Bill off, “one, don’t call me Peter, and two, you literally told me that you were telling stories about me, so spill.”

 

Bill dropped the innocent look, and shrugged. “I just told him what he wanted to know. How we met, how I turned you, and so on.” At Pete’s look, he hastened to add, “don’t worry though, I made sure to censor the bad parts. I wasn’t sure you’d enjoy him knowing how many people you killed, or how we used to fuck.”

 

“He really did,” Brendon chimed in again, looking between them warily. “I mean. He mentioned how you like guys and girls, but he didn’t say anything like, dirty, or anything.”

 

“Great, thanks. Anything else I should know about?”

 

Gabe, who had his arms wrapped around both Bill and Travie, shrugged, “if they say they only answered his questions, and spoke well of you, I don’t see what the problem is. Now, if they decided to tell him about the time you tried to get drunk and ended up passed out in your bathtub. That might be a problem. And you didn’t tell that story, did you guys?”

 

“Of course not. I didn’t say anything bad about you, I swear. I didn’t even bring out your baby pictures.”

 

Pete narrowed his eyes. “And you’re not _going_  to show anyone those, either. I don’t care if you’re talking about the portraits or those times you tried to draw something I did that you thought was funny--or even actual pictures. Don’t you even dare. I’m in charge, and if you do, I’ll bring out the pictures of you when you were younger.”

 

Bill put his hand on his chest, faux offended. “You think so lowly of me. Perhaps making you leader wasn’t a good idea after all.”

 

“No one else wanted to be, so good luck trying to find someone to replace me.”

 

Travie frowned, and eyed him, “hey now, both of you relax. We’re all just having fun here. If Patrick’s making you react like this, then maybe you should call it off, figure out another way to make a treaty.”

 

Joe looked between them. “You wouldn’t do that, would you? Because even if you don’t want to marry him, you can’t just dump him back on the street like that.”

 

Pete groaned, and ran his hands through his hair, “I’m not going to call off the contract, and I’m not about to kick him out. I like him fine. I’m just stressed, that’s all.”

 

Joe relaxed a bit, leaning back into Andy. “That’s good. Because if you did, the human leaders would be pissed--not at you, but at him, seeing as they could make his life suck, but they can’t touch you.”

 

“Yeah, well, like I said. I’m not kicking him out, and even if I did, I’d make sure he was taken care of.”

 

Gabe laughed quietly into Travie’s shoulder, “yeah, ‘cause you’re in love with him.”

 

Pete threw a pillow at him. “Shut the fuck up, no one asked you. If you’re just going to mock me, I’m leaving. I have things I could be doing instead of being ganged up on by my not so loyal subjects.”

 

“Like what? Mooning over his thighs? C’mon, sit back down and just relax, it’s not like you’re going to go to sleep anytime soon, and anything you want to do can wait.”

 

Pete hesitated before taking his seat again, and finally relaxing, and talking to them, and over time more and more people filtered in, ready to enjoy everyone's company and the music.

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

When it was reaching around six am people began leaving; first Andy and Joe, then Tyler and Josh, to go to bed or to grab a bite to eat before the sun came up. With a groan Pete stood and stretched, glancing over at Bill, Gabe, and Travie.

 

"I'm heading out, I'm gonna try to get some sleep before the meeting tonight."

 

Travie nodded and waved at Pete lazily. "Alright then. You gonna need someone to keep Patrick company when he wakes up?"

 

He shook his head, "nah, he's got more than enough to do now. You three should get some sleep soon too--you're coming with me, after all."

 

Bill stood first, and helped Gabe and Travie to their feet. "Fine, but only because I fear you'll accidentally start a war--or Patrick will. Good night Pete."

 

He waved at them, and walked to his rooms, nodding at those who were walking back to their rooms as well. He was mostly on first name basis with them, so they knew he'd be fair, and besides that, it was good to show people he cared about them--it meant no one would try to rebel, unlike those outside the walls of the house.

 

When he got to his rooms he took a shower, and had a quick bite to eat before he lay down, but try as he might he couldn't sleep.

 

It was nearing nine when he faintly heard Patrick begin stirring, so he closed his eyes and listened as Patrick ate breakfast, and then took a shower of his own.

 

Curiously, Patrick hummed when he showered, and Pete strained his ears to listen to him, and before he knew it, he was lulled to sleep.

 

While he was sleeping, Patrick had managed to put his kit together again, as well as charge and start his computer.

 

Of course the first thing he did when it was started was to try and download garageband; however, there was one problem. He didn't know the wifi password.

 

He groaned and dropped his head on the desk, sulking for a minute--he had no one he could ask, because he was locked in and everyone would be asleep anyways. It sucked.

 

The only thing he could do was to use the flash drive Pete had given him the night before, and look at the newest draft of the contract.

 

Boring.

 

He pulled up the document with a sigh, before going to grab a drink, and when he came back, he looked longingly at his guitars, before sitting down and beginning to read.

 

Most of it was the exact same, to be honest, which didn't exactly help his boredom, but it seemed that Pete had tried to integrate what he wanted--for instance, it named him directly rather than just referring to him as 'the human.' That was nice.

 

And hey, there was more talk of consent in this version as well. Without realizing it, he had relaxed, just a bit, from seeing it. He knew he shouldn't necessarily be excited about something like that, but hey, it was definitely a good thing, and he trusted Pete more for it.

 

When he had finished with that he tried playing solitaire, which was fun.

 

For about five games.

 

Then he was bored again. He looked over at his guitars, and then to the door. Surely it wouldn't wake anyone up, right? It's not like he was plugging it into an amp or anything.

 

He stood and stretched with a groan, body protesting after being hunched over the computer for over three hours, before going to grab his guitar. He took it over to the furthest corner of the room, so as to not disturb anyone, and tuned it carefully, before finally beginning to play.

 

He kept it quiet, in case there were people asleep, but he needn’t have bothered; the only one close enough to hear was Pete, who would’ve just fallen asleep again to the sound of his guitar.

 

And with no interruptions, Patrick was able to toy with some music he’d been thinking of. Although he’d rather have garageband, so he could record it, this was still the next best thing, seeing as he couldn’t write music for the life of him.

 

He hummed along with the music, and paused, to stand and grab a notebook so he could try to write lyrics, to go with what he was thinking.

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

When Pete woke up, the first thing he heard was Patrick’s guitar playing, even as muffled as it was. It made him want to lay in bed and just listen to it--made him want to spend the rest of his life listening.

 

He made a face at himself, before sitting up in bed and glancing at the clock. Five pm. Well, that was the most sleep he’d gotten in _ages_ , probably. It was nice. When he and Patrick were married, he’d have Patrick sing him to sleep every night.

 

When he finally got up, he got dressed and decided that he’d rather eat again before visiting Patrick, so he swung by the kitchen to heat up some blood and drink it. He was licking his lips when he got back to his room, and he made sure to wipe his mouth before he knocked on the door and went in.

 

Patrick looked up at him and smiled slightly, standing and putting his guitar away carefully. "Hey, Pete. You sleep well?"

 

"Yeah, thanks for asking. How are you doing?"

 

"I'm good. Oh, I looked at that contract, so you can have the flash drive back. I do I have a problem though; I don't know your wi-fi password?"

 

Pete rubbed the back of his neck, "ah. You must've been bored without that, huh? Well, it's 'clandestine.' Do you know how to spell that?"

 

Patrick just ripped off a piece of paper, and handed it off to Pete. "Write it down please--and who even came up with that?"

 

“I did. It’s one of my company names.” He tried not to feel offended by Patrick’s tone, and quickly scrawled out the password, before shoving the paper back at him.

 

“So. I heard you playing the guitar. I don’t think I recognized the song?”

 

Patrick looked up from the laptop, where he was trying to type the password in, and shook his head, blushing just a bit. “You wouldn’t. It’s just something I’ve been working on.”

 

“Oh, really? I’d love to hear more, if you want someone to listen? I mean, I’m not claiming to be the best at music, but.”

 

Patrick shrugged, and made grabby hands at his guitar, “gimme, and I’ll show you. It’s not the best, or whatever, so don’t judge it too harshly.”

 

Pete handed him the guitar and took a seat on the bed, squirmed to get situated. "I won't--does this song have any lyrics?"

 

Patrick narrowed his eyes and huffed. "It does, but--don't laugh, okay?"

 

Pete nodded, trying not to seem eager, and Patrick took a breath, before proceeding to sing beautifully. Pete was enraptured, leaning in to watch Patrick more closely.

 

By the time Patrick had finished Pete could barely contain his grin, and Patrick smiled back shyly in return. "So, how was that?"

 

"That was great--you've certainly got an ear for music. And your lyrics were nice as well."

 

Patrick set his guitar down and readjusted his glasses, in lieu of replying, flustered. "Um. Thanks." He quickly changed the subject, "so, uh. The meeting is tonight, huh?"

 

Pete sat up straighter and nodded. "Yes, it is. We need to talk about that, actually. I doubt they're going to have us sign anything tonight, but you should still be awake for the whole meeting. Do you think you can do that, or will you need to nap before we go?"

 

Patrick huffed, and sat up straighter as well. "I'm not twelve--I can stay up all night if I need to." He turned around in his chair and unplugged the flash drive, to throw it at Pete. "There. I made notes on a separate doc, if you want them."

 

"That's good, thank you. Now, we'll also need to discuss what you're wearing--"

 

Patrick snorted, "no offense, but I think I can dress myself, and I'm not taking fashion advice from you."

 

Pete looked down at his outfit with a frown, before shaking his head, "that's not the point, but if you want to dress yourself, fine. Show me what you're wearing."

 

Patrick rolled his eyes and stood, going over to the dresser and searching through his clothes. When he found what he was looking--a pair of new jeans, and an argyle sweater--he tossed them at Pete's head.

 

Pete spluttered, and grabbed them, just as Patrick threw a shirt at Pete's head as well. "Hey! You don't have to throw things."

 

Patrick hopped up on the dresser and gave Pete an unimpressed look. "I thought your keen vampire instincts would stop them from hitting you. My bad."

 

Pete didn't even dignify that with a response, just examined Patrick's clothes with a snort. "And you said I have bad taste--seriously, _argyle_? Where did you even get this?"

 

"I had it at my house, and fuck you, it's a good idea. Makes me seem like, I dunno, like I'm a good little kid who totally wants to listen to his elders, or something."

 

Pete just looked at him, before tossing the sweater back. "Okay, no. As nice as it is that you want to fuel their school boy fantasies, I'm not about to let that happen. Do you have any button ups?"

 

Patrick caught the shirt and huffed, pointing over at the closet. "I dunno, if you don't like my idea then why don't you go check and pick something out?"

 

Pete gave him an unimpressed look, and stood, going to the closet and looking through it, before picking out a newer looking button up and taking it off the hanger. "Try this on and see if it fits."

 

Patrick went pink, and hopped off the dresser to go and grab the shirt, before going to the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

 

"Seriously?" Pete called out, amused.

  
"Shut up, I'm not changing in front of you."


	25. Chapter 25

A few minutes later Patrick came out, smoothing down the shirt as he did. When Pete motioned for him to spin, Patrick flipped him off, but did as suggested.

 

Pete nodded slowly. "That looks good. What do you think?"

 

Patrick looked down at himself and nodded begrudgingly. "It's fine, I guess. I still say the sweater would be better though."

 

"And I'm still saying that you're not wearing that to a meeting. Not unless you want Gabe to crack jokes all night."

 

Patrick scowled, and crossed his arms, "I could handle that, and if he did I'd punch him."

 

"I'm fairly certain he'd just laugh at you. Or, even more likely, mock you for that as well. You're better not off trying, so just wear that instead, okay?"

 

Patrick looked mulish, but nodded again, reluctantly. "What are you wearing then, huh? If you think you know best."

 

"I," Pete said grandly, "will be wearing a button down and dress pants. Because I have to look the part as a leader."

 

"...not even a crown could make you look more like a leader, to be honest."

 

"Well it's a good thing I'm not royalty then, isn't it? And I can be plenty intimidating, thank you."

 

Patrick turned his head away, and kicked the floor sullenly, "I'm aware. Can I put my clothes on now?" He colored slightly, and continued, "I mean--whatever."

 

He spun on his heel and went back into the bathroom, and Pete waited for him to return.

 

When he had changed he came out of the bathroom and Pete handed him the hanger quietly, letting him hang up his clothes. "Is that all then?"

 

Pete rocked on his heels, and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. While you're at the meeting with us, well. I doubt they're going to listen to you, no offense meant. So just--don't speak until you're spoken to, and if you do need something said, write it down and hand it to either me, Bill, Gabe, or Travie."

 

Patrick looked offended. "What do you mean they're not going to listen to me? I'm the one getting married."

 

Pete just looked at him. "Do you remember the previous contract? What about their disregard for asking for consent? Do you really think they'd listen to you?"

 

Patrick fiddled with the hem of his shirt, and didn't answer, avoiding Pete's eyes. After a moment, Pete sighed, and stepped over to Patrick, touching his shoulder carefully.

 

"Look--just because they won't listen to you doesn't mean they won't listen to us. Take a notepad and pen with you, and write down what you want said. One of us will read it, and decide if it's relevant enough to say--okay?"

 

Patrick finally sighed, and nodded, pulling away from Pete. "Fine, whatever." He narrowed his eyes, and looked at Pete, finally, "there had better be a seat at the table for me. I'm not sitting on the floor, or in anyone's lap. If anyone tries to make me, I'm going to punch them."

 

Pete snickered, and took a step back, "fair enough. I doubt they'd refuse you a chair, but if they do you can totally punch someone."

 

"Thanks, but I don't need your permission."

 

Pete sobered, and just stared at Patrick until he looked away, and then he spoke. "See if you can get some sleep, and eat. You're not gonna want to fall asleep at the meeting tonight. We're leaving at nine, so be dressed by then."

 

Pete went to leave, and Patrick muttered out a bitter sounding 'yes _sir_ ,' which Pete ignored, on principle. Patrick had a right to be upset, after all. And hopefully he'd get it out of his system before the meeting--he didn't want Patrick arguing and giving the human leaders an opening to start something.

 

When Pete came back, it was around eight forty five. He was already dressed--dark blue button up that was unbuttoned just enough to see his tattoos. He thought he looked intimidating, at least.

 

When he went into Patrick’s room, Patrick was dressed as well, fidgeting with his shirt sleeves as he waited. They were a bit long on him, but otherwise the shirt fit well, and so Pete watched him for another moment, before he said, “do you need help with those?”

 

Patrick scowled at him, and then down at his sleeves again. “I. Yeah. Please.” He held his arms out, and Pete, trying to hide his smile, rolled back his cuffs.

 

“I had to get Bill to help me when I was younger. I don’t need to do it now only because I get my clothes fitted. I’ll take you to get your clothes fitted in a few days, when we’re getting fitted for the wedding.”

 

Patrick smiled reluctantly, “does that mean you’ve given up on trying to make me wear a dress?”

 

"Not a chance. You'd look lovely in an all white knee length dress."

 

"....no. Anyways, shouldn't we be going soon? You said we had to leave at nine, so."

 

Pete nodded, and hesitated, before grabbing Patrick's hat and pulling it off of him. "You can't wear that, though."

 

Patrick yelped, loudly, and grabbed for his hat. "Fuck you, I'm not leaving the house without that!"

 

Pete held the hat above his head, "nope, sorry. I got you a new hat instead. More fancy. You can't wear a trucker hat to a meeting like this."

 

"Fine," Patrick said tersely, "then hand me the other hat, if I can't wear my hat."

 

Pete eyed him, and handed his hat back, which Patrick shoved back on his head, and Pete went to grab the hat box, coming back to give it to Patrick.

 

"Put it on and we can leave."

 

Patrick grumbled and opened the box, eyes widening at the fedora in the box, before he took off his own hat and replaced it with the fedora.

 

"There, isn't that better?"

 

His wide eyed look of appreciation was quickly replaced with a scowl. "Thanks, I guess, but don't try and steal my hat before you tell me you have another hat, dick."

 

Pete put his hands up defensively, "calm down, and let's go. Next time I won't steal your security blanket."

 

Patrick brushed past Pete, and scoffed, "it's not a _security blanket_ , I just don't appreciate you taking my stuff. Especially when I'm _wearing it_."

 

He stopped at the door, and shook the handle; it was locked. Pete ambled along behind Patrick, before shooing him out of the way to unlock the door.

 

He made a mock bow, and let Patrick out first. "After you."

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

Patrick left the room and Pete trailed out behind him, grabbing his arm when he was about to make a wrong turn. When Patrick gave him a look, Pete shook his head.

 

"Nuh uh. We're going out the front door to meet them, not out to the garage. C'mon."

 

Patrick let himself be led to where Travie, Bill, and Gabe were lounging by the car. "Hey, finally. Hurry up, we don't wanna be late."

 

Pete rolled his eyes, but he and Patrick picked up their pace, and Travie nodded at them when they got closer. "Hey you two. You clean up nice."

 

Bill gave them a once over, and nodded his approval. "He's right. I almost miss the days when I had to pick out your clothes, Peter."

 

Patrick snickered and Pete made a face. "Stop acting like my mother, _William_ , and get in the car."

 

Bill winked at Patrick, and got in the back of the car, and Patrick got in behind him, followed by Gabe. "Wait," Patrick blurted out, "you're not driving, are you?"

 

They laughed, and Pete shook his head, pouting a bit. "My driving's not that bad!" He protested.

 

Travie shoved him into the front seat, "yeah, sure it's not. And don't worry, kid, I'm the safest driver here."

 

Travie got in and started the car, before peeling out of the drive. It made Patrick yelp, and hurry to strap in. Gabe snickered next to him. "Just relax, Travie hasn't had an accident in all the years he's been driving."

 

"That's great and all, but I'm a human. If he has an accident, I'm the only one who's going to die."

 

Bill wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "calm down, we'll protect you. We're not about to let a car crash get in the way of you marrying our boy Peter."

 

"I'm not your boy," Pete called back, twisting around in his seat to look at them. He eyed Bill's arm with distaste. "And hands off."

 

Bill blew him a kiss, but he didn't remove his arm. "Keep your eyes front, Peter, I'm not harming anyone."

 

Pete sneered at him, but faced the front. "If he tries anything, Patrick, just let me know. I'll take care of it."

 

Gabe wrapped an arm around Patrick as well, and grinned at the back of Pete's head, "we're all friends here, chill Pete. He tells us off, we stop."

 

Patrick leaned back in his seat and didn't reply, blushing hard. He was a bit annoyed that they were treating him like a chew toy, but he wasn't about to protest.

 

Pete was almost sulking in the front seat, back stiff as he listened to the back seat, and Travie nudged his leg.

 

"Relax," he said lowly, "nothing's going to happen. Just focus on tonight's proceedings, okay? Bill and Gabe are just trying to stir you up. Don't let them."

 

Pete was tense for another moment, before he relaxed, and nodded, "I know. When this is all over and done with I'll be relieved. But until then..."

 

Travie patted his leg, and gave him a sideways smile. "The sooner the better then. Now let's go in there and get this thing done."

 

He parked, and raised his voice, "hey, we're here. Get the fuck out and lets do this shit."

 

Pete hopped out first, and opened the rear door, allowing Gabe to spill out, before he held his hand out for Patrick.

 

Patrick hesitated for just a moment, and then Bill pushed against his back, and he took Pete's hand and allowed himself to be pulled out.

 

"Thanks," he muttered, and Pete grinned at him, moving him aside so Bill could get out.

 

"What, you're not going to help me out of the car? Rude."

 

Pete flipped him off, and put his hand on Patrick's shoulder. "You don't need help, you giant. Now times a'wasting. Let's get this over with."

 

Bill climbed out as well, and Travie locked the car, before they walked up to the building. It was big, and fairly modern looking--to be honest, it reminded Patrick of an apartment building, especially with where it was located...and the very intimidating looking door man.

 

Pete nodded at him. "Zack. We've got an appointment."

 

Zack unbent a little, and smiled at their group. "I know you are. This who you're going to marry?"

 

Pete nodded, a little impatient, "yeah, this is Patrick. You gonna let us in? We're nearly late."

 

Zack waved his hand at them, and opened the door. "Go on in; meeting's at the top, as usual."

 

Pete wrapped his hand more firmly around Patrick's arm, and together they went to the elevator. Patrick was practically jittering with nerves by the time they got in, and while Bill pressed the button, Pete turned Patrick to look at him.

 

"Hey, relax. This is all going to go fine. What's worrying you, anyways?"

 

Patrick looked paler than usual, in the elevator's light. "I--these are important people we're meeting, and while you've met them before, I haven't. All I know about them is that they'd do anything to get this treaty to work, and that they don't give a shit about me."

 

Pete put his arms on Patrick's shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. "Hey, they may not, but we do, okay? No one's gonna touch you. And you saw the changes I made to the contract--do you trust me?"

 

Patrick took a deep breath, and then another, before facing Pete squarely. "I. Yeah, for some reason I do."

 

Pete gave him an encouraging smile, "well, there you go. We're gonna rock this, okay? So put on your best angelic face and lets wow them."

 

Patrick smiled shakily, before closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he straightened up and smiled more warmly at Pete. "Let's do this."

 

When the elevator doors opened, they stepped out, and walked down the hall. There were large oak doors, at odds with the outside aesthetic, and guarding them were two blank faced guards.

 

Pete nodded at them tersely, and they opened the doors silently, letting them into the meeting room. It was dark, and it immediately became obvious why; the windows were completely blacked out, as help for their vampire guests.

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

Charles raised his hand in welcome. "Come in, come in. Is this the young Patrick Stump? He's darling. Take your seats, please."

 

Patrick kept his smile, and Pete lead them all over to the seats; thankfully, there were five. Pete took the middle seat, with Bill on one side, and Patrick on the other. Travie and Gabe took the middle seats, and then they began.

 

“Did you get an updated copy of the draft I sent you?” Pete asked, leaning back in his chair with an air of nonchalance.

 

Christina nodded, and flipped through her copy of it. “We did, yes. The changes you requested are...interesting.”

 

Pete raised his eyebrow, his tone cool. “What exactly makes them interesting? I believe they’re perfectly reasonable, all things considered.”

 

David leaned forward, pointing at his own copy of the contract. “For one thing, you took out the clause that requires you to protect your betrothed. By taking it out, you could be implying that you want to injure or kill him.”

 

Pete sighed, and gave them all a disappointed look. “Now, I know you’re not that in tune with the ‘ways of vampires’ and what not, but I don’t need the clause to want to protect the person I’m marrying.”

 

David raised an eyebrow, and then shook his head, “it doesn’t matter if you’d do it regardless, the clause is still needed so we know that you won’t hurt him.”

 

Bill leaned forward, skimming his contract idly as he did. When he finally looked at them, he didn’t look amused. “I don’t see what your problem is with this version of the contract is; your version was contradictory, what with the ‘no injury clause’ near a clause that stated he didn’t need Patrick’s consent to bite him.”

 

David bristled, “we were making concessions for your kind, with the consent clause.”

 

“Were you also making concessions when you implied that Patrick didn’t need to consent for...other things?”

 

“Well, yes--”

 

“That,” Gabe put in, “is pretty offensive. You’re implying that we’re monsters, who don’t care about our mates, or have any morals. Now, are you sure that’s what you want to imply with this treaty?”

 

Michael finally spoke, “no, we in no way wanted to imply that. Your changes, at least in terms of the consent clauses, are accepted.”

 

“We’ll need the protection clause taken out as well. How is Leader Wentz supposed to bite or change Patrick, if the contract is automatically broken if he gets hurt. And besides that, the whole clause is wishy-washy, and very vague.”

 

David spluttered, and glared across the table at Bill, “what exactly is that supposed to mean,” he said icily.

 

“It means exactly what I implied,” Bill countered, voice mild. “If this clause was included, the contract would break if Patrick stubbed his toe, or got a paper cut. That’s not exactly iron clad, now is it?”

 

David narrowed his eyes and went to reply, before Charles waved him down. “You are right about that, I suppose. Very well. The clause will be rewritten, for better focus.”

 

“Not good enough. I suggest you throw the clause out completely. We’ve just told you that there would be no way that Leader Wentz would harm Patrick, and by keeping the clause in you’re acting as though you don’t trust us. That’s not very nice, now is it?”

 

Charles looked thoughtful, before shaking his head. “We can’t just throw it out completely. It would be in bad faith. We want him protected, and even if Leader Wentz would keep him safe regardless, we would still appreciate the safe guard the clause gives us.”

 

Pete shook his head at Bill slightly, and spoke, “rewrite it, and send it to us to okay. Do you have any other objections with the changes I made on that portion of the contract?”

 

“There is one other thing; you want your betrothed emancipated before your wedding. Why exactly is that?”

 

Pete leaned forward, finally, “because, I want him to be able to make his own decisions, while also hurrying the wedding along so it happens before he turns eighteen.”

 

“Why would you need that?” Michael asked, appearing genuinely bewildered. “if you want the wedding to happen before his eighteenth birthday, we, as the leaders, could easily sign for him.”

 

“But I don’t want that. I want him to sign for himself, or I won’t sign the contract.”

 

“Really? You want to throw all the work we’ve done away just because you want your fiance to sign the contract with you?”

 

Pete smiled, fangs glinting in the light. “Yes,” he said slowly, “that is a deal breaker. Either you agree, or the treaty is voided.”

 

The leaders looked at each other, before breaking out into a whispered argument. Pete sat back and waited, amused.

 

It took five minutes for them to come to a decision, and Christina spoke, "is this what your betrothed wants? We need to know, before we get the paperwork together."

 

Patrick looked up, and then at Pete, who gave him an encouraging nod. "Y-yes. I do want this. I want to be able to sign my own contracts, and have equal standing with Pete--I mean, Leader Wentz--when we're married."

 

"And this is what _you_  want, Leader Wentz?" She sounded skeptical, and Pete narrowed his eyes, finally showing his temper.

 

"What makes you think I wouldn't want this? Not only have I directly stated that I do multiple times, but I have also shown that I care about his consent in matters outside of the marriage. What gives you the right to imply that I am some moral less creature who cares only for himself?"

 

Christina flinched, and then looked at Charles for guidance. Charles looked calm, and sat forward in his seat. "Very well. Please keep in mind that it will take a while to get the paperwork together for this. Is that good enough for you?"

 

Pete nodded, satisfied. "It is. But I do hope you'll get the papers together quickly--I'd hate to have to wait for them to finalize, only to find out that Patrick had already turned eighteen."

 

They looked at each other, and nodded, before Michael cleared his throat. "Now, onto the other matters, such as land rights, and how to make buildings less dangerous for vampires..."

 

At that, Patrick zoned out. He'd already read that part of the contract, and it really had nothing to do with him, and it didn't make sense for them to speak to him--especially since they had only done it to try to get their way. He bet they had already forgotten his name, or that he was in the room.

 

Travie nudged him, and he turned to him, surprised. When he looked down at what Travie had written, he had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. It appeared to be a hangman board.

 

When Travie arched an eyebrow, Patrick nodded, and took the pen from him, so they could begin.

 

It was nice, actually; it kept him awake and occupied, and Travie's sense of humor aligned fairly well with his. It did mean that his lip was a bit swollen from biting down on it to keep himself from laughing, but whatever.

 

They had just finished their twentieth game when Patrick found himself yawning, and Pete gave him a sideways glance. 'R u tired?' He scrawled quickly, not even making the pretense that he was paying attention.

 

Patrick shrugged, and then nodded, covering his mouth to yawn again. Abruptly, Pete drummed his fingers on the table, and looked at the other leaders. "Well, as nice as this discussion has been, we should probably wrap it up. The sun's coming up soon, and we need to get home before then."

 

Patrick was thankful he didn't mention that he was tired--it would've been embarrassing, even if it were true. "I--very well, Leader Wentz. Our apologies for keeping you this long. Will you be able to return tomorrow for the rest of the discussion?"

 

Pete nodded, and glanced at Patrick again, "yes, we will be--will you need Patrick to return tomorrow as well? Because we've passed our discussion on the wedding part of the treaty, correct?"

 

Charles nodded slightly, and stood, Pete mirroring him so they could shake hands across the table. "Yes, your partner will not be needed come next discussion. It was very nice to meet--Patrick, was it?--again."

 

Patrick just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. If it was nice to see him again, truly, then they would've remembered his name, especially seeing as it had been used throughout the night.

 

He still shook their hands though, and soon enough they were out the door and in the elevator, and Patrick could nearly sense the tension leak out of them all.

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

Pete was leaning back against the wall, and smiled at Patrick when he noticed he was looking at him. "So, that was negotiations. Interesting, isn't it?"

 

"I--it was very enlightening, I guess?"

 

Gabe snorted. "Yeah, if by enlightening you mean boring as fuck. Those stick in the muds are lucky they're dealing with us and not some of the...touchier...leaders, though."

 

"Because of how they slighted you, right?"

 

Gabe leaned forward and rubbed Patrick's head through his hat, before Patrick batted him away. "Exactly. You're lucky though, kid. You don't have to come back tomorrow and run through the same motions as today."

 

"I didn't do anything though. But--thank you, for fighting for those changes. I really appreciate it."

 

Pete grinned at him, and they stepped out of the elevator, waving at Zack as they left the building. "It was no problem. I told you I'd do it, after all. And besides, the clauses were bullshit, and you can be damn sure they wouldn't have wrote those in if they'd been dealing with other humans. It's speciest bullshit."

 

"Well still, thank you." Patrick stifled another yawn into his hand, and Pete hooked a hand around Patrick's neck to lead him to the car, ignoring how he could feel Patrick's pulse against his hand as he did so.

 

"You're welcome. Now get in, so you can go to bed."

 

Patrick made a face, but once Bill was in he climbed in as well, Gabe behind him.

 

By the time they had all gotten into the car and Travie had started it, Patrick was blinking sleepily, and trying not to lean against Gabe. Pete deliberately turned the music down, and a few minutes later Patrick was slumped against Gabe, his breath even as he slept.

 

"Aww, he's so cute. I can really see the appeal, Pete." Bill said quietly, watching Patrick.

 

Pete flipped him off, but was turned around in his seat so he could watch as well. "Shh, you'll wake him."

 

Gabe cooed at him, and Travie turned the music down further, so he would be heard. "Y'all wanna stop staring at him like you're Edward Cullen from Twilight? Because if he wakes up, he's not going to be very happy."

 

Bill flapped a hand at him, but stopped staring as Pete huffed and did the same. "You don't have to put it like that you know."

 

"Yeah, maybe Pete wants him to be his Bella Swan to his Edward Cullen."

 

Pete ignored him, but he couldn't stop fidgeting in his seat, wanting to turn back around and look at him. This was especially due to the fact that Patrick was sleeping on Gabe, which wasn't fair at all.

 

Pete comforted himself with the fact that if Patrick stayed asleep, it meant he'd get to carry him to his room again.

 

When they did get back to the house, it was nearing morning. Travie bit back a curse, before accelerating and getting into the garage as quickly as possible, before shutting the door. When the doors finally shut, they all relaxed.

 

"C'mon, get out--is Patrick still asleep?"

 

Bill got out of the car first, and looked back at Gabe and Patrick, who was still curled up next to him. "You're in luck, he is. Gabe might have to carry him to his room."

 

Bill smirked just a bit when Pete gave him a look. "That's not happening. I can carry him back just fine. Gabe, see if you can get out without waking him."

 

Gabe nodded, and opened his door carefully, before moving Patrick so he was in his arms, and he could get them both out easily. Pete shut the door behind him, before holding out his arms demandingly.

 

“C’mon, hand him over so you three can go to bed.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry him?” At Pete’s stare, he sighed and shifted Patrick, so he could hand him over to Pete carefully. “There you go. You two have fun. We’re off to bed now.”

 

At the jostling, Patrick stirred slightly, and Pete stilled, giving them a warning look when they had to muffle their laughs. When they had left though, Pete began walking back towards their rooms.

 

On the trek back, Patrick did stir again, yawning against Pete’s neck. “We home?” He slurred out, nuzzling Pete’s shoulder subconsciously as he did.

 

He could feel Pete nod, and he yawned again, "mm. Kay, put me down, I can walk."

 

Pete paused, but didn't put Patrick down. "You really wanna walk all that way?"

 

"...no. 'M tired."

 

Pete started walking again. "I know you are. Don't worry, you'll be in bed soon enough."

 

Patrick just nodded and yawned again, his eyes drooping closed again. By the time they made it to their rooms, Patrick was asleep again.

 

Pete opened the door with some difficulty, and carried Patrick into the room, setting him down on the bed before taking off his shoes, hat, and glasses, and covering him up. He glanced at Patrick once more to check if he was okay, before he left for his own bed.

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

It was nearly three pm when Patrick woke up the next day, disoriented and starving. He stumbled out of bed and to the kitchen, blearily grabbing a bowl and his cereal, and he very nearly poured the milk into the box, rather than the bowl.

 

He blinked down at the bowl, and shook his head, before taking a bite and humming happily. When he remembered how exactly he got to his bed the previous night, he couldn’t stop himself from being just a tad annoyed with himself.

 

He had _promised_  himself that he wouldn’t fall asleep until they had actually got home, and instead he had fallen asleep on someone (Gabe’s?) shoulder. And then Pete had carried him, _again_. It was embarrassing.

 

Other than that though, last night had been good. All those clauses changed, and Travie playing hangman--that was fun. And the best news of them all was that he wouldn’t have to go back tonight.

 

It did mean that he might be stuck all night in his room though, and he wasn’t even tired. He’d be up all night at this rate.

 

At least he had the wi-fi password. Hooray for internet he didn’t have to pay for, and time spent playing around on garageband.

 

He finished his breakfast (well. lunch) and went to change out of last night’s clothes and into something more comfortable. It was probably the second time he’d actually worn his pajamas since he’d been here, actually. But he deserved to be comfortable, if he was going to be stuck in here all night.

 

Which was how Pete found him, a few hours later. He was sitting at his computer crosslegged, headphones in his ears, wearing Batman pajamas. It was more than a bit adorable.

 

Pete cleared his throat, which Patrick didn’t seem to notice, so he walked over, as loudly as he could, before tapping Patrick on the shoulder. Patrick startled, and pulled down his headphones, looking up at Pete.

 

“Wh-oh. Hi, Pete. Are you, um. Are you leaving already?”

 

Pete bit back a laugh, and nodded seriously, “I’m afraid so. Hopefully these negotiations won’t run as long as they did last night. Are you gonna be okay by yourself?”

 

Patrick nodded, and glanced at his computer. “Yeah. I’ve just been playing around on this--thank you again for getting it for me.”

 

Pete nodded again, and patted Patrick on the shoulder. “Well, have fun. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll get to do something actually fun. Like go out, or something. Uh. Sleep well?”

 

Patrick smiled up at him, and turned back towards his computer. “Thanks. Good luck with negotiations, and get home safe. Night Pete.”

 

"Night, Patrick. Oh, and nice pj's."

 

Patrick turned pink, and squawked, which made Pete laugh, even as locked the door behind himself. It was the most relaxed he'd felt going to a meeting in ages. Nothing could spoil his mood, not even seeing the other leader's smug faces.

 

Although, after nearly seven hours of 'discussion' with them, he was ready to pull his hair out. He could tell Travie, Gabe, and Bill were feeling the same.

 

They'd been going over how to make things safer for all vampires for thirty minutes, and neither side wanted to budge. He glanced at the clock and stiffened up, before shaking his head.

 

"We've gone over this enough. We'll need to finish this at a later date, as we," he motioned to himself and the others, "need to go home."

 

David huffed but when Charles nodded he stood. "Fine. We will resume tomorrow."

 

"No. Maybe in a few days, but we can't continually spend our nights here. Maybe we can resume on Monday. Oh, and that'll give you time to get those papers together for my fiancé."

 

Charles frowned for a moment, before his face smoothed over and he smiled. “Yes, it will. Thank you for the break. We’ll meet up here Monday then?”

 

Bill leaned forward, closing his notebook with a sigh (and Pete could faintly see that he hadn’t been paying much attention for quite some time, if the amount of tic tac toe games on the paper was any estimation), “or, you could come to our place instead. Because these meetings are going on longer and longer, and this building has many windows. You aren’t trying to kill us, are you?”

 

Michael shook his head quickly, “of course not,” he said, sounding offended, “we would never! There’s just only so many buildings we can relocate to--”

 

“Which is why I suggested you come to our building. No harm will come to you, we assure you.”

 

"We'd still feel much safer here--"

 

"Yes, but we don't feel safe in a building covered in windows. Besides that, it's about time we switched up the meeting place. We wouldn't want rouges finding up, now would we?"

 

Michael paled, and conferred with the group. It took only a few moments before he looked back at them and nodded. "Very well. Pick your meeting place and send us the address. We'll meet you there on Monday."

 

They shook hands, and left the building, Pete practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. "You did a good job, all of you. But now we'll have to clear out the formal meeting room--I think it's being used as a rec room now."

 

"We've got all weekend to do that, relax. And now we'll have even more time because they're meeting on our terms. Now let's get you home so you can check on your Patrick--you really don't like leaving him unprotected, do you?"

 

"Of course not. For one, he's human, and for another, I'm supposed to protect him. I can't do that if I'm not there, now can I?"

 

Gabe clasped him on the shoulder. "Relax, he's behind plenty of locked doors, and only a few people know where he's located."

 

Pete still looked a bit on edge, Travie tossed him the keys. "Go on then, you drive, if you wanna get home quick."

 

Pete thanked him, and quickly ushered them into the car and drove off, breaking numerous driving laws in the process--but they made it home before sunrise.

  
Pete got out of the car to the sound of the other three laughing quietly, but he ignored them. When he got into the house there was barely anyone still awake, because the sun was coming up, so he had no obstacles as he went to his bedroom.


	30. Chapter 30

When he got into the room he could hear Patrick still moving around in his room, as well as the sound of music filtering through the door. He knocked on the door, and the music quieted after a moment.

 

"Come in," Patrick said, muffled as it was through the door.

 

Patrick was sitting on the bed, cross legged, and it appeared that the music was coming from the record player. Patrick waved at Pete, and then yawned. "Hey," he said, "how was the thing?"

 

Pete took a seat at Patrick's desk and smiled. "Hey back. And it was good, I suppose. We got some good headway, and we've got a few days off before we have to get back together. And hey, they're coming here rather than us having to go there."

 

Patrick smiled, looking a little tired, "hey, that's good. Means less work and less stress about sun, right?"

 

"Yeah, it does. They're also getting together the paperwork to emancipate you, so hopefully they'll have that by Monday."

 

"Yay, 'm glad." When Patrick blinked slowly, biting back a yawn, Pete stood up.

 

"I'm gonna let you get some sleep, since it looks like you need it."

 

Patrick waved him off. "'M fine, really. And shouldn't you be going to bed as well? Or did you just want to tell me what happened before you did."

 

It was a good thing Pete couldn't blush, and he maintained his smile, shrugging, "well, I heard that you were still up, so I thought I'd see how you're doing and tell you what happened."

 

"Thank you, I'm glad it went well, and that you told me."

 

"You're welcome. Sorry you couldn't go out tonight. Did you do anything interesting at least?"

 

Patrick nodded and waved towards the computer. "Yeah, I recorded some stuff and played around with some melodies." He yawned again, and Pete hesitated, before going over to ruffle his hair.

 

When he tried, Patrick fended him off, clutching his hat defensively, "nooo, don't."

 

"Sorry. You go to bed, okay? I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe we could go out, or to the music room or something."

 

"I'd like that, thanks. Night, Pete."

 

Pete leaned down to kiss the top of his head without thinking about it, making Patrick turn pink. "Night."

 

He left, and as soon as he was out of the room he groaned, dropping his head back onto the wall.

 

"Shitttt, why the fuck did I do that?"

 

He silently decided never to mention it anyone. Ever. Like it never even happened. Here's hoping Patrick would think it was a hallucination or a dream.

 

Meanwhile, Patrick was just as confused, touching his hat uncertainly. He was still pink, and he shook his head after a moment, taking off his hat and flicking off the light.

 

I'll wake up and it'll be like it never happened, he thought, before crawling under the covers and trying to fall asleep.

 

Pete wakes up first, unsurprisingly, and lays in bed in bed for another twenty minutes, trying desperately to fall back asleep. When that fails, he sighs, and sits up, fumbling for the light switch. When the lights come on it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, and he drops his head back against the headboard, thinking.

 

Of course, his first thought is what happened the night before, and he scrubs his hands over his eyes with a groan. He had probably creeped Patrick out by doing that--it was just instinct though. He had looked so tired and adorable and--

 

He cut that thought off, because it was veering dangerously close to bad territory. He wasn’t about to get creepy about someone who was seventeen and didn’t even know if he liked boys. It was also one of the reasons he’d been gorging himself on blood; it made it easier to be around Patrick, without wanting to drink from him.

 

Even though he _was_  drinking so much though, he could still smell Patrick. Everyone had a different taste to them; it wasn’t based on blood type or anything, it was just--there. Bill had told him once that he smelled like freshly brewed coffee, extra sweet, and Andy said that Joe--when he had been human, at least-- smelled like freshly baked bread.

 

That was only when the blood was fresh though; the more time the blood spent out of the body, or being refrigerated, the less it tasted like anything in particular. Which meant it only barely helped when Pete was confronted with Patrick’s smell--he was like strawberries and cream, or something equally ridiculous and charming. It fit him.

 

Pete stopped that line of thought, and got up, throwing a hoodie on over his boxers. He’d have to go eat again, if he was thinking about Patrick’s blood again.

 

He wandered out of his room, scratching his stomach idly as he made his way down to the kitchen to grab a snack.

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

He wasn’t the first one in the kitchen, however. In fact, there seemed to be some sort of meeting going on. He leaned against the doorway and looked at them; Gerard, Mikey, Tyler, Josh…

 

“What are you four doing up at this time?”

 

Gerard looked up at him, and waved with their free hand; the other, Pete noted, was holding a mug of blood.

 

“Hey, Pete. I see you’ve found the insomniacs meeting place. So that probably answers your question.”

 

He blinked. “I...see. Why are you having it in here?”

 

“Because it’s far enough away from everyone that we won’t wake anyone up, and because we can drink while we’re talking.”

 

“Ah. What were you talking about before I got here then?”

 

“Music, art--stuff like that. Mikey was just telling us about the dream he had a few nights ago.”

 

Mikey nodded at Pete, and deadpanned, “I dreamed we were all humans, and in bands. It was weird.”

 

“Bands, huh? That sounds pretty damn cool. Were we any good?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. We were famous.” He paused, before, “Your betrothed--Patrick, right? He’s got a good voice.”

 

Pete blinked at him. “Have you...heard him before? Or heard someone say that?”

 

Mikey just shrugged, apparently done with the conversation.

 

“Oh- _kay_ then. Uh. Tyler and Josh, what are you two doing down here?”

 

Josh yawned, his head pillowed on his arms, and waved his hand at Tyler. “He woke me up, said he couldn’t sleep.”

 

“And you just came down here with him?”

 

Josh gave him a funny look. “Why wouldn’t I have? We don’t go anywhere without each other.”

 

“Oh, yeah, of course, that makes complete sense. So, how long have you two been together then?”

 

Josh picked his head up off his arms and looked at Tyler, who giggled just a bit. “Well, you see, it all started when we were at this  go carting place--”

 

“...no. No offense guys, but it’s a bit too late for this. Unless you’re going to actually tell us how you met, we don’t need to know.”

 

Tyler’s face slid into a pout, and he went back to fiddling with his sweatshirt sleeves. Josh patted him on the back. “It’s okay bro, I thought it’d be good.”

 

Tyler beamed at him, and Josh wrapped an arm around his shoulders, grinning dorkily at him.

 

“So, Tyler, why couldn’t you sleep?”

 

Tyler’s face went blank, and he shrugged. “Dunno, just couldn’t, I guess.”

 

Pete knew when to pick a fight, and when he’d lose one, so he shrugged, moving to the fridge to grab a blood bag to heat it up.

 

“Well, are you two settling in okay? I know you got here recently and all--your room to your liking?”

 

Tyler nodded, and leaned into Josh, “yeah, it’s good, thanks. And we’ve made friends, obviously.” He nodded at Mikey and Gerard, who grinned at him.

 

“I’m making sure they settle in well, and everything. And they said they’ve seen my art before, isn’t that awesome?”

 

Pete grins at them, and flashes a thumbs up, "that's great Gerard! Your art should be in more galleries, definitely."

 

Mikey nudged their shoulder and murmured his agreement, and Gerard gave them all a happy look.

 

"Thanks! I've actually been drawing Mikey's idea for bands and all--I'll show it to you after I'm finished if you want."

 

Tyler kicked Mikey's shin softly, "tell him what you saw our band as being."

 

Mikey stifled a laugh, and looked up at Pete, "Tyler and Josh had a two man band--ukulele and drums."

 

Pete tried to formulate a reply that didn't involve loud, braying laughter; thankfully, the microwave beeping saved him, and he could take the bag out and fill up his mug before he replied. "That definitely suits you both."

 

He took a drink from his mug, and glanced at the clock; only twenty minutes had passed since he got out of bed. He grimaces and takes another swig, before looking over at Gerard and Mikey.

 

"Hey, you two haven't met Patrick, have you? Maybe tonight I'll introduce you."

 

Mikey glances between Gerard and Pete. "Well, Gee would need to shower first--and get a haircut. We don't wanna scare off your fiancé with Gee looking like a stereotypical vampire."

 

Gerard shoved Mikey playfully, "it's not my fault Edward Cullen was based loosely off me. And why would I have to shower?"

 

"Smell, Gee, that's why." Mikey sniffed himself as well, and stood. "I need one too; that's what Ray and Frank said, anyways. Let's go, while the shower stalls aren't occupied."

 

Gerard drank the rest of their blood and put their mug in the sink, before they followed Mikey out of the kitchen with a wave. "You should introduce us tonight--see you three later!"

 

Tyler eyed the mug, before getting up to wash it. "Do you want me to dry it for you?" Josh asked.

 

Tyler narrowed his eyes at him. "You can't even dry yourself off completely, so no."

 

"But baby boy, c'mon. I can totally dry them off completely, I promise. A mug's different than skin."

 

"I would hope so, Joshua Dun."

 

Pete snorts into his mug, and they turn to give him identical deer in the headlight looks.

 

"You forgot I was here, didn't you?"

 

Josh shrugged, and gave him an embarrassed look. "Yeah, actually. Sorry."

 

Pete waved him off. "It's fine, I'm leaving now anyways. Good luck with the mug, and try and get some more sleep, okay Tyler? You look tired."

 

Tyler nodded, and put the mug in the drying rack. "I'm gonna go try right now, promise. I hope you can get back to sleep too, Pete."

 

Pete nodded, and Josh smiled back, before grabbing Tyler's hand, "c'mon. If you can't fall asleep right away we can share my MP3 player to listen to some sick tunes."

 

Pete watched them walk off, and then finished his blood with a grimace; it had gone a bit cold. He washed his mug and put it in the drying rack as well, before wandering back to his room.

  
He took the long route, to see if anyone else is up, and when he passed the showers he could faintly hear Gerard and Mikey singing; it got the song stuck in his head, and he was humming it all the way into his room.


	32. Chapter 32

When he got back to his room, he didn't hear any stirring from Patrick's room--geeze, how much did he need to sleep, anyways?

 

He laid down and closed his eyes, trying to get back to sleep. It didn't work, yet again, so he sat up and grabbed his notebook from the locked drawer of his bedside table, and began to write.

 

It was soothing; got his mind off of everything else and just allowed him to vent his thoughts and feelings without having to examine them. Although it did lead to situations like the one he found himself in when he finished.

 

It appeared that most of his poetry, and lyrics, centered around Patrick.

 

Well, shit.

 

He shoves the notebook back in his drawer, and faintly hear Patrick moving around, and waking up. It sounded like he forgot to turn the light on, because Pete could hear him cursing quietly when he bumped against something, and Pete laughed quietly.

 

He stopped when he heard the shower start up, hoping to hear Patrick sing again; even humming would be good at this point. Anything to get back to sleep.

 

Thankfully, Patrick seemed to hear his pleas, and started singing, quietly at first, and then louder, so Pete could hear him more clearly. It didn’t take long for Pete to drift off to sleep after that.

 

When he woke up it was around lunchtime--for Patrick, anyways. He got up, and dressed, and went to Patrick's door immediately, walking into it and to the kitchen, where Patrick was seated at the table, eating.

 

Pete took a seat, as Patrick swallowed his food and nodded at him. "Hey," he said. And then, apparently remembering the night before, he blushed, and looked down at his food.

 

"Hey back. You sleep okay?" He was trying to remain cool, and he wasn't about to bring it up, so Patrick peered up at him.

 

"Yeah, um, yeah I did. How about you?"

 

"Better than I would have." He was definitely telling the truth--he wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all if it weren't for Patrick's singing.

 

"That's good." Patrick fiddled with his fork, "so, uh. What are you up to tonight?"

 

"Well, I figured we could go out, let you stretch your legs and all. There are some people I want you to meet, and then maybe, I dunno. Dinner, or something."

 

Patrick's eyes widened just a tad, and Pete hurried to continue, "dinner for you, I mean, not me. Obviously. You can pick the place."

 

Patrick nodded, and bit his lip in thought. "Anyplace? Are you sure?"

 

"Yeah, no matter the cost. I figured we might as well go out on a date--sort of date--before marriage, even if this is semi-arranged."

 

Patrick tapped out a beat on the table for a moment. "Can you eat, or only drink blood?"

 

"I--yes, I can eat? I mean, I don't get anything out of it besides taste, but I can eat things."

 

He nodded seriously. "I know where I want to go then."

 

Pete blinked. "And?"

 

"Chuck E Cheese's."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it seems cracky, but like all things, I have a reason for this


	33. Chapter 33

Pete gaped at him. "You--what?"

 

"I want to go to Chuck E Cheese. They have pizza and games, and you said anywhere."

 

"They probably won't even be open--"

 

"They close at ten. If we leave at eight we could be there for a hour and a half."

 

"I don't--why do you want to go there?"

 

"I already said, pizza and games." Patrick gave him an innocent look. "You said I could choose anywhere."

 

"Yeah, I really did. Okay, let's go to Chuck E Cheese tonight."

 

Pete had no idea what was happening, to be honest. He vaguely knew of Chuck E Cheese, and from what he did know, it was a children's place.

 

Patrick was up to something, and it annoyed him that he had no clue what it was.

 

Patrick hummed, and put his dishes in the sink, before sitting back down at the table and staring at Pete, who still looked stunned.

 

"So, do you have a printer? We could probably find some coupons online, to save money on tokens and pizza."

 

"I. Are you really sure you want to go here? If you want pizza and games we could order pizza, and buy you games."

 

Patrick looked completely innocent as he shook his head. "No, no, it's the atmosphere I miss. The pizza and games are just a happy consequence."

 

Pete nodded slowly, and then stood. "Well. Okay then? Pizza and games and then you'll meet the others."

 

Patrick beamed at him, looking remarkably angelic. "Thank you, I really appreciate it. It'll be fun, just the two of us...and all those kids and parents."

 

Pete nodded again, and edged out of the room, Patrick's smile being a bit too much for him.

 

As soon as he left though, Patrick collapsed into a fit of giggles.

 

When eight pm came around, Patrick was dressed and ready to leave; a newer jeans and an old band shirt, as well as his hat. He was tapping out a beat on his legs when he heard the door unlock, and Pete came in, and Patrick had to bite his lip so he wouldn't laugh at Pete's outfit.

 

"So, are you ready to go then? Uh. I've got the directions, and all."

 

Patrick smiled, and _hugged_  Pete, before he moved out of the room. "Yeah, let's go! I can't wait--it's gonna be awesome, thank you so much."

 

Pete grinned at his back, a bit goofily, before shaking himself out of it and locking the door, and hurrying to catch up with Patrick.

 

He had almost forgotten his earlier feelings, with Patrick humming quietly along with the car radio. Almost.

 

When they got there, Pete parked the car, and had to take a moment to reflect on his life choices that had led him to this place. He vaguely wondered if he had done something to piss Patrick off, and this was his idea of revenge--was it because he kissed his head, really?

 

Patrick hopped out of the car and, when he noticed that Pete wasn't following, opened Pete's door to grab his hand and drag him out of the car. Pete let him, locking the door as they went up to the building.

 

They were in line behind a parent and their children, when Pete noticed the stamps. "What are they doing?" Pete muttered to Patrick.

 

Patrick's eyes lit up, and he shuffled closer to say, "it's so they know if a kid is being taken by someone who isn't their parent, or if they try to leave on their own."

 

Patrick moved forward in line, and let the doorman stamp his arm, nudging Pete so he'd do the same. The doorman didn't even blink, or react. "You two have fun."

 

"This is so fucking weird," Pete muttered when they got in, eyeing the animatronics in the back of the building. "Why did you want to come here again?"

 

"Games and pizza," Patrick said absentmindedly, dragging Pete into line so they could get tokens and order pizza.

 

Pete let himself be dragged, even as Patrick was veering towards the stage area. "Christ, what the hell is that?"

 

"Don't be rude Pete, that's Chuck E."

 

"Do we have to sit here? I'm pretty sure I saw some open seats by the windows up front." Patrick turned to him and _pouted_ , and Pete could feel his resolve crumbling.

 

"Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, we can sit here. Go get yourself something to drink, I'll wait for the pizza."

 

When he took a seat Patrick leaned over to kiss his cheek quickly, going pink as he did, and Pete gaped at him as he hurried away.

 

"I am totally in hell, aren't I?" He asked to no one in particular. A mother gave him a dirty look, and he mouthed an apology at her.

 

When Patrick came back, he had an overfull glass of fruit punch. It didn't really set off a light bulb in Pete's head, until some of it spilled onto Patrick's wrist.

 

He set the glass down, and gave Pete a sheepish look. "Whoops," he said, sounding cheerful, before he proceeded to lick it off.

 

Pete had to look away to avoid whimpering. "So, you like fruit punch then?" He asked, trying not to sound strained.

 

Patrick nodded, and put his straw in his fruit punch so he could take a drink. When he finished, he licked his now tinged red lips, and smiled. "Yeah, it's really good--do you wanna try some?"

 

Pete's eyes narrowed just a bit, but he took the proffered beverage and took a drink--too sweet, for his taste. He didn't see the appeal of it at all, except that if he squinted and tilted his head it looked vaguely like...

 

 _Shit, he's fucking testing me, isn't he?_ Pete thought.

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

"So, how do you like it?"

 

Pete took another sip, and gave it back, before licking his own lips. "It's a bit too much for me--but I've never had anything like it before, so that may explain it."

 

Patrick nodded, and fiddled with the tokens cup. "Yeah, it would. So, when was the last time you had something other than blood? Wouldn't it get a little boring after a while?"

 

"I tried eating a long _long_  time ago, and no, it doesn't get boring."

 

Patrick looked at him to elaborate, but Pete stared back, didn't say anything. If Patrick was testing him, he wasn't about to make it easy for him.

 

Patrick huffed, and went back to playing with the tokens, splitting them in half and shoving one pile at Pete.

 

"Oh, no, you can keep them, I don't really want to play games here.”

 

Patrick pouted, just a bit--he was a bit annoyed; if Pete stayed at the table, he couldn’t watch him, or test his patience, which had been the whole point of the exercise. “Please, Pete? I can’t really use all these tokens myself--we’d be here all night. And besides, more people playing means we get more tickets for prizes.”

 

Pete could feel himself crumbling, and he cursed himself for being so _easy_  when it came to pretty faces. “Fine, hand them over.”

 

Patrick beamed at him, and slid them over to Pete, before glancing towards the side of the room, “looks like our pizza is coming--do you want anything to drink? Because you totally have to try a piece.”

 

“I’ll go get myself some water, then. I’ll be right back.” Pete grabbed the cup and left the table, dodging children who were underfoot. He _really_  regretted saying Patrick could pick anywhere; why couldn’t he decided to test Pete at somewhere that wasn’t infested with small children.

 

And sure, there were teenagers around, playing games, but they still stood out; well, Pete did, anyways. He got his drink and went back to the table, where Patrick was waiting, slightly impatiently for him to return.

 

“So, as soon as we finish up using these tokens you want to leave, yeah?”

 

Patrick widened his eyes, faux innocent, and shook his head, “no, because we have to eat too. Here, try a piece, it’s good.”

 

Pete hesitated, before sighing and taking a piece. "I'm only taking one, because I don't need to eat this."

 

Patrick nodded, and took a bite of his own slice, watching Pete as he did the same. Pete chewed slowly, and then set the slice down.

 

"Well? How is it?"

 

"It's--really fucking good, actually. Pizza is awesome!"

 

Patrick blinked at him, before breaking out into a grin, "well, eat more then. I can't finish a pizza by myself."

 

Pete takes another big bite of his pizza and looks far too pleased with himself, and while he's chewing Patrick swipes his water to take a sip of it.

 

"What, you don't want your fruit punch anymore?" Pete asks when he's finished with his bite.

 

Patrick colors, and shakes his head. "It's all watery now, I don't want it."

 

Pete takes another bite, and then swallows, "well, I can always go get you more if you want." He falls just short of sounding innocent, and Patrick's blush deepens, knowing he's been caught.

 

"No, I'll go get myself another drink. You better not eat the rest of the pizza while I'm gone."

 

"No promises," Pete says, and he finishes off his slice before grabbing another.

 

When Patrick comes back he's carrying a drink that is very distinctly not fruit punch.

 

"Oh no, did they run out of your drink?"

 

Patrick sticks his tongue out at Pete, and takes a sip of his drink. "Don't be a dic--a jerk. I just wanted a new drink."

 

Pete snickered, and grabbed the slice Patrick was going to grab, taking a big bite of it. Patrick sighed and grabbed another piece. "You know, I'm supposed to be the teenager here. Why are you acting younger than me?"

 

"Don't even try me, kid. You're the one who wanted to come here, and now I'm enjoying myself. Pizza is great and you can't take this away from me."

 

"Would you stop calling me kid? We’ve had this conversation before and  we're getting _married_  soon. It's weird."

 

"Sorry, Patrick, but I like nicknames. More fun."

 

"Find a different, less demeaning nickname then, because I'm not a kid and don't appreciate you calling me that."

 

Pete grinned at him, and stole Patrick's drink, sipping from it. "Oh, you'll regret giving me that kind of power, Patty-boy."

 

Patrick gave him a nasty look, "I said nothing demeaning, and no. Just. No."

 

They finished off the pizza quickly, and Patrick grabbed his tokens, gesturing at Pete to do the same. "C'mon, I'll show you what the best games are--have you ever played skee ball?"

 

Pete followed behind Patrick, dodging little kids, and when they got to the game, everything was full up. "Oh, well, let's play a different game then."

 

Patrick gave him a funny look. "Are you kidding? Most of the other games are totally rip offs. Like that one over there--says if you get a number over like, 80, and you'll get 50 tickets right? Except it never stops when you want it to so you always get like two tickets."

 

"How many times have you been here, huh Trickster?"

 

Patrick narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment on the name. "Enough, I guess. Now c'mon, skee ball's open. After this we can do guitar hero."

 

They got up and put their tokens in, and began playing. Patrick was surprisingly good at it, Pete not so much. It was mainly because he didn't know his own strength.

 

"Okay no, no, stop that. Don't throw it so hard, just roll it. You don't want to break the game. Just watch what I do, okay?"

 

Patrick demonstrates, and then waits for Pete to try. He manages not to get it in the gutter or 1000 points section, at any rate. "See, that's good. It's easy, just don't use too much force."

 

"You know, I'm better at soccer. That doesn't involve using arms--that often, anyways."

 

"That's great, and I'm not good at soccer, so we're equal in skill there. Now try again, please. I want tickets so we can get something."

 

"Why? It literally says you can use your money to buy the items. We can do that if you want something."

 

"Yeah, but this is a competition that I'm going to win, and I don't want to buy the prize; it takes the fun out of it."

 

“Still though, it doesn’t matter if I’m good or not, we can just _buy_  the toys.”

 

“We’re not using money to get prizes. Now c’mon, let’s see if you’re any better at Guitar Hero than you are at skee ball.”

 

“We have guitar hero at the house, we can play it there, and we won’t be vying for the game with a bunch of little kids.”

 

“Are you saying you don’t want to play anymore games? Because if you want you can go sit down, because the show’s about to start.”

 

Pete looked at him, confused, and Patrick gestured back to the stage. “You know, the show? Chuck E and his friends sing and dance. Just give me your tokens and you can watch that instead.”

 

Pete clutched his tokens to his chest protectively. “No, you can’t have them, and I’m not watching that. They creep me out.”

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

“Why? It’s not like they can like, walk around or anything. Well, there’s a person in a Chuck E costume walking around, but other than that they stay still.”

 

“I’m fine with costumes--like, I have a few at home, but those-those _things_ are an abomination!”

 

“You have costumes at home? Of what?”

 

“You know, like. Those suits, like the guy’s wearing.”

 

Patrick lowered his voice, “oh my god, are you a furry? Holy shit.”

 

“What? No, I just like the costumes.” Pete may have raised his voice just a bit, which made some of the parents look at them oddly. Patrick turned pink and shoved Pete.

 

“Shut up, keep your voice down,” he hissed, glancing around nervously, “Jesus, use your volume control.”

 

“You’re the one who asked me that in a _children’s pizza place_.”

 

“Shut up, you’re the one who mentioned that you had fursuits.”

 

“I do _not_. Okay, you know what. Let’s just not do this right now, okay? Just. Let’s play Guitar Hero.”

 

There’s a pause, as they set up the game, and then they begin. They’re both fairly good at the game, and Pete’s nearly distracted when Patrick starts humming along with the song.

 

Without taking his eyes off the game, Patrick says, low enough so only Pete will hear, “I’d be fine if you were into that, you know.”

 

Pete chokes, and fumbles the guitar, and Patrick keeps playing, can’t keep a smile off his face as Pete tries to catch up. When the song’s finished Pete sets the guitar down carefully, before grabbing Patrick and pulling him into a headlock, making him yelp.

 

“You said that on purpose, you little shit. You made me lose on purpose!”

 

“All’s fair in love and war,” Patrick chokes out, giggling.

 

There’s a cough behind them, and one of the parents gives them a look. “Could you please not do that? There are children here.”

 

Pete lets go of Patrick, and pretends to dust him off carefully as Patrick catches his breath. “I’m very sorry about that,” he says, and then he flashes them a grin, making the parent pale and back up.

 

“It’s--it’s not a problem,” they say, and then they turn tail and flee.

 

Patrick shoves Pete, “seriously? Now we’re going to have to leave before they call security on us.”

 

“Oh no, what a tragedy,” Pete says, before grabbing Patrick’s arm and tugging him away, “now we’ll never get to watch the show.”

 

“I hate you so much right now.”

 

“That’s nice. Pick your prize so we can pay for it and leave.”

 

Patrick looks like he’s ready to kick Pete, so Pete makes sure he’s behind Patrick as he guides him, and, just to be rude, Patrick points at the most expensive thing on the wall.

 

“I want that thing--the dance and play piano.”

 

Pete twitches, “seriously? That’s going to be what--”

 

“It’s going to be one hundred dollars. And you said you’d buy me anything. _And_  you’re probably going to get us kicked out of here, so you owe me.”

 

Pete growls, and Patrick flinches just enough for him to notice, and abruptly, he melts, and gets out his wallet. “Here, buy the thing. I’m going to get something as well.”

 

Patrick hugs him quickly, before taking the proffered money, and smiling shyly at the person working the counter. “Hi, I’d like the Dance and Play Piano?”

 

Their eyes widen, and they take the one hundred dollar bill, checking to see if it’s real, before they carefully put it away in the cash register. When they take down the prize, Patrick beams at them, and takes the prize.

 

Pete hands him the keys, “go put that out in the car, I’ll be right out, okay?”

 

Patrick shrugs, and does as he’s told, and Pete comes out a few minutes later, holding something behind his back.

 

“Hey, I got you something.”

 

Patrick raised an eyebrow, turning towards him. “Thank you? What is it?”

 

Pete shoved something into his arms, and grinned. “It’s a lunchbox, for my favorite lunchbox!”

 

Patrick swallowed hard, and he wished that he hadn’t eaten so much pizza, because he felt sick. “Uh. Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

 

Pete’s grin faltered, “hey, are you okay? Wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that--”

 

“It--it’s fine, really. I just. Take me home, please.”

 

Patrick was hunched forward in his seat, and refused to look at Pete the entire ride home. There was an uncomfortable silence in the car, and when Pete parked, Patrick scrambled out of the car as soon as possible.

 

“I don’t really feel that good. Uh. I think I want to go to bed. Sorry.”

 

Pete grabbed the stuff out of the car, and nodded, going to touch Patrick’s shoulder softly, when Patrick flinched. He put his hand down. “Okay then, I’ll tell everyone else that you went to bed early.”

  
Patrick stayed as far away from Pete as possible as they walked to his room, and when Pete unlocked the door Patrick took the prizes from Pete carefully, and shut the door behind himself, leaving Pete staring at the closed door.


	36. Chapter 36

“Shit,” Pete muttered, and he nearly kicked the door in anger. “Shit, fuck, god _dammit_.”

 

Of course he went and fucked up like this-- things were going so _well_  too. He always managed to fuck up the good things in life.

 

He strained to hear Patrick, but it was silent in the other room, and Pete swallowed hard, before turning around and leaving, headed for the music room to tell them the news.

 

As he got close he could hear their laughter, and faint strains of music coming from the room, and when he went in, they looked up at him, smiles on their faces.

 

“Hey, Pete, where’s your boy? And what’s with the long face?”

 

Pete took a seat, and buried his head in his hands, “he’s not coming, tonight. He didn’t feel good.”

 

They quieted down, and Bill touched Pete’s shoulder hesitantly, “it sounds more like you’re the one who doesn’t feel good. What happened? You have a bad date?”

 

“Not at first. Fuck, we went to fucking Chuck E Cheese, and he introduced me to pizza, and it was going so _well_.”

 

“Whoa, slow down. What happened?”

 

“He said he wanted to go to Chuck E Cheese--it’s a fucking children’s pizza place, and I guess he was trying to test me, or something. We get there, and everything’s fine. We get pizza, and it tastes great. We’re laughing, having fun, he teaches me how to play some games and tease each other. And then some parent gets on us, and I flash my fangs at them, and Patrick says we need to leave before we get kicked out.”

 

“Okay? That sounds pretty good, go on.”

 

“So he says he wants a prize that costs one hundred dollars, and he gives me this look, right? Like, he’s almost pouting, and it’s adorable, and he guilts me into it because he says we might get kicked out if we don’t hurry. So I hand over the money and he buys it, and goes outside. And then I decide to buy him something as well. And so I stupidly buy a fucking _lunchbox_ , present it to him and say ‘a lunchbox for my lunchbox,’ and he shuts down.”

 

“Why did you call him a lunchbox? I don’t understand--I mean, I know what he got out of it, but what made you think that was a good idea?”

 

“I just meant that he was full of my favorite things! I didn’t realize he’d think I was talking about wanting to _eat_  him. I should’ve though. Fuck! His parents were killed by vampires, for fuck’s sake.”

 

It’s nearly silent in the room, and Joe speaks up, “his parents are dead? He didn’t tell me.”

 

“Yeah, well, he didn’t want people to know--goddammit, I just can’t keep my foot out of my mouth, can I?”

 

Bill pats him on the shoulder again, and Joe stands, “Pete, give me the key to his room please.”

 

“What? No, I’m not giving you the key.”

 

Joe holds out his hand, and doesn’t budge. “Pete, give me the key. I’m friends with Patrick, and I’ve known him longer than you have. I have a right to go check on him.”

 

Pete looks up at Joe and bares his fangs, to try to intimidate him, and Joe shrinks just a bit, but shoves his hand towards Pete again. “Seriously. Give it to me, or I’ll break the door down.”

 

Pete shoves his hand in his pocket and grabs the key, handing it to Joe. “You get out if he says get out, and if you ever talk to me like that again, I’ll make sure you can’t use your hands.”

 

Joe takes the key, and rolls his eyes, “yeah, because you’re going to do that. You’re just pissed off at yourself, don’t take it out on me.”

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

He leaves, before Pete can lunge at him, and makes his way to Pete’s room. Once he’s inside he locks the door carefully, before knocking on Patrick’s door.

 

“Patrick? Can I come in, it’s me, Joe.”

 

There’s silence, before Joe can hear Patrick moving around, and Joe knocks again.

 

“I can understand why you may not want to talk to me, but I’m worried about you and want to help.”

 

There’s another pause, before Joe hears a muffled ‘come in.’ He unlocks the door carefully and goes in, before locking the door securely behind him.

 

It’s dark in the room, but Joe can faintly make out Patrick curled into a ball on his bed, so he walks closer, taking a seat in the desk chair.

 

“Hey,” he asked, “are you alright?”

 

Patrick sniffed, and Joe realized with a sense of horror that Patrick seemed to be close to tears.

 

"...I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me."

 

Joe shook his head, and wheeled the chair closer to the bed. "That's bullshit, and I don't even need to be your friend to know that. What happened?"

 

"Nothing. Just Pete reminding me of something I don't want to think about."

 

"Okay," Joe said slowly, "we don't have to talk about it then. I'm going to move closer now, okay? We can just sit in silence until you feel ready to talk."

 

He could make out Patrick nodding in acceptance, so Joe kicked off his shoes and clambered onto the bed, wrapping an arm around Patrick. "See? This is fine--everything's gonna be fine."

 

Patrick was fairly stiff in his arms, and they were quiet--Joe could be patient, especially when it came to waiting out people talking. Finally Patrick sighed, and spoke in a low voice.

 

"My parents died, a few months back. It was raining, and they had answered the door, and these people were at the door, said they needed to call a ride because their car broke down. So of course, my parents invited them in. And it turned out they were vampires--God." He swallowed hard, and leaned into Joe. "I wasn't home at the time, I had gone to a gig with some friends. And when I got back, all of them were dead."

 

He curled tighter into a ball, and Joe softly petted his hair. Patrick took a shuddering breath, and continued. "My parents, Megan and Kevin--all of them, dead. There was fucking blood smeared on the walls, and, God."

 

Joe hugged him tightly, "hey, shh, it's okay, you don't have to tell me anymore if you don't want to."

 

Patrick turned around and buried his head in Joe's shoulder. "I--it's hard, but I want to tell someone."

 

"Well I'll listen then. Is that what made you upset tonight?"

 

"Pete said something that reminded me of it. I just--I know he's a vampire, and you are too, but it's easy to forget. Except he just came out and handed me a lunchbox, said I was his lunchbox--and it scared me." He rubbed his face against Joe's shoulder, and he could feel tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

 

"I don't wanna be bitten, and I don't wanna be seen as just a food source. God, I'm fucking _terrified_  of all of you when I remember where I am, and this just made it worse. Why did I have to be the person chosen for this stupid treaty?"

 

Joe petted down his back slowly, making soothing noises, "hey, shh, it'll all be okay. Do you want to cancel all this? Because no one's going to be pissed if you do."

 

"Yeah, but I already made the promise, and if I don't go through with this they're just gonna get another person to do it, and they might be scared too. And I don't wanna have to go back to my house."

 

"Well, I'd kick Pete's ass if he tried to kick you out, and if you're still here you can help the other human navigate all of this, right?"

 

Patrick shook his head against Joe's shoulder. "I don't wanna quit. I said I'd do it and I will. It'll just take a while to--to get over everything."

 

"Well, remember that you have friends here; and if you don't want to be around blood drinkers, some of us are vegan, you know. Andy's really chill and he's never had blood before, and Gabe's the same, surprisingly. You can hang with us if you're scared."

 

"Seriously? That's really--that helps a lot, thanks Joe."

 

Joe smiles at him, close lipped, and tugs Patrick back into a hug. "I know it does, I'm awesome. Now relax, nothing's gonna happen while I'm here--get some sleep."

 

Patrick rolls his eyes and laughs quietly, sounding less strained, before he curls further into Joe's hug and closes his eyes, his breath evening out fairly quickly as he falls asleep. It doesn't take that long for Joe to follow him.

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

Pete's relocated, so he and a few of the others are in his office, rather than in the music room. He looked miserable, slumped in his seat, and the others are perched around the room, watching him.

 

Finally, Andy spoke, "look, you know what you have to do, right? Just apologize to him."

 

"Yeah, because he's going to accept that--'Patrick, I'm sorry I implied I want to bite you, but I kinda do, let's be friends?'"

 

Andy sighed, and said mildly, "well, maybe not that last bit. You two obviously like each other, just apologize and give him the space he needs; maybe show that you have more control than that."

 

"He didn't even want to look at me when I said that--he hates me."

 

Andy leaned over and flicked his forehead. “No, he doesn’t. He’s upset, yes, but if you apologize it’ll be fine. Do not make this a self-pity fest, Pete.”

 

Pete glared at him, and Andy just raised an eyebrow and stared him down, until Pete looked away. “Look, I didn’t say it had to be tonight. Sleep on it, and you can do it later.”

 

“But--”

 

“No buts, Pete, Andy is right,” Bill said, staring Pete down. “I know you know better than this, and you both obviously care about each other. It’ll be fine.”

 

"I guess so." Pete muttered, and Andy patted his shoulder, before standing up.

 

"C'mon, let's get your mind off of it--we could play music or whatever you like."

 

"Shouldn't you be worried about Joe?"

 

"Nah, I trust both of them. They're teenage boys; knowing them they've already talked it out and fallen asleep or something."

 

"In the same bed?" Pete narrowed his eyes, and Andy dragged him to his feet.

 

"Well, are there two beds in that room? If not, then yes. And are you honestly implying that you think Joe's going to try something?"

 

"...I guess not." Pete finally muttered out, avoiding Andy's eyes.

 

"Chill out, then. Jealousy isn't cute, and isn't gonna make him like you more. It's just gonna creep him out." He paused. "Do you really wanna end up like Bill?"

 

"Hey!" Bill said, sounding offended.

 

Andy waved him off, and kept looking at Pete. "Seriously, Pete. Remember Bill when he first turned you? Is that how you want to be towards Patrick?"

 

"I'm still right here. I can hear everything you're saying."

 

Bill was once again ignored, and Pete nodded, looking a little more confident. "Yeah, you're right. I don't think I could ever be that bad--"

 

"Honestly, what the hell--"

 

"But thanks for warning me before it was too late."

 

Andy pats his head, and they leave the room, wandering back to the living room to play games. When the sun was coming out, Andy helped Pete back to his room, unlocking the door and letting them both in.

 

"You can leave, if you want. I don't need you watching over me."

 

Andy took off his shoes and stripped down to his boxers, looking at Pete oddly. "I'm still sticking around. If not for you then for Joe, so when he wakes up I can take him back to our room."

 

"That makes sense I guess. You wanna be the little spoon Andy?"

 

"Not really, but if you want me to..."

 

Pete grinned and stripped out of his clothes as well, before getting into bed. "You're the little spoon of my heart, of course I want you to. Now get over here."

 

Andy rolled his eyes and got on the bed, letting Pete wrap his arms around him happily, nuzzling Andy's shoulder.

 

"Thanks, Andy. You're a great dude and I'm glad we're friends."

 

Andy reached back and patted Pete's face, "you're welcome, and I'm glad we're friends too. Now go the fuck to sleep or I'll gag you."

 

"Ooh, kinky," Pete muttered, before closing his eyes. "You talk to everyone that way or am I just special?"

 

"It's just you, now sleep."

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

Patrick wakes up first in the morning, with Joe still wrapped around him, and he wriggles out of his hold, scrubbing his eyes and yawning as he makes his way to the bathroom. He’ll wake Joe up when he gets done with his shower--for now, Joe can keep sleeping; Patrick owes him one anyways, for last night.

 

When he gets out of the shower and gets dressed, and Joe’s still sleeping, having sprawled over the bed sometime after Patrick got out. Patrick laughs quietly, and shakes him awake.

 

“Huh, wazzat?” Joe says blearily, blinking up at Patrick. “What time is it?”

 

“It’s nearly noon. I don’t think you’re gonna be able to get out of here without waking Pete up, so it looks like you’re stuck here.”

 

Joe yawned and stretched, rolling off of the bed. “Whatever, it’ll be fine. I may sleep all day, who knows. Hey, can I borrow your shower?”

 

Patrick snorted, and nodded, “yeah, go right ahead. I don’t know if any of my clothes’ll fit you though.”

 

Joe pulled his shirt up and sniffed it, before shrugging. “Eh, this’ll be fine for now. I’ve worn clothes for longer when I tried touring.”

 

Patrick wrinkled his nose and then, realizing it was a bit hypocritical, nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll be making myself breakfast when you’re finished.”

 

Joe nodded and wandered into the bathroom, as Patrick goes to make himself breakfast; it’s a bit domestic, all things considered.

 

When Joe’s done he takes a seat at the table, across from Patrick, who’s eating. Joe looks wistful, and Patrick shoves his plate at him. “Here, take some. It’s not like I need it, anyways.”

 

“Oh no, I couldn’t--”

 

“Seriously, it’s fine. It’s kosher, and Pete said that vampires could eat human food anyways; if only because it tasted good.”

 

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed I haven’t been keeping kosher lately. And if you insist--” Joe swipes a bite of egg, and toast.

 

Patrick grinned at him, and grabbed another plate, and putting more of the food on it. “Here, there’s more than enough to go around. So, what do you wanna do while we’re stuck here?”

 

“Well,” Joe said, swallowing his food, “what do you usually do?”

 

“I dunno. Get on the internet, practice playing, stuff like that. I could probably find a movie for us to watch or something?”

 

“Mm, that’s good for me. Fair warning, I might fall asleep on you though. I’m not used to staying up this...uh, early? I guess.”

 

They finished their breakfast in mostly silence, and while Joe was putting the dishes away Patrick went to the computer and tried to find something watch.

 

“Hey, Joe, you wanna watch Star Wars?”

 

Joe let a quick cheer from the kitchen. “Fuck yeah! Only if it’s the original trilogy.”

 

“Dude, of course-- those are the best ones.” Patrick called back, finding a download link.

 

When it was downloaded Patrick collapsed on the couch, and Joe did the same, both of them curled up together so they could watch the screen at the same time.

 

It was easy for them to get lost in the plot, even though they’d both seen the movie many times before, and Joe was mouthing along with the characters, leaning on Patrick’s shoulder.

 

It was comfortable, and they made it through two movies before Joe fell asleep, thankfully not snoring in Patrick’s ear as he slept.

 

Patrick shifted, to make both of them more comfortable, and kept watching, thankful that his laptop was plugged in. After a bit though, he set it aside, and closed his eyes, squirming under Joe to take a nap as well.

 

Of course, it was nearly sundown, which meant certain people were waking up.

 

Pete awoke first, and was practically jittery with nerves. And of course it woke Andy up, who groaned, and turned to Pete. “Chill out, Pete.”

 

“Sorry, I can’t help it. What if he is really pissed at me? What if he wants to leave?”

 

“We didn’t hear anything from Joe or him last night, so it’s probably fine. If you’re so worried get dressed and I’ll go in there with you and check on them.”

 

Pete planted a big kiss on Andy’s cheek, before rolling out of the bed. “Thanks, hurry up and get dressed already.”

 

Andy rolled his eyes and got up and dressed in last night’s clothes, and over to the door, where Pete was nearly vibrating in place.When Pete unlocked the door, Pete hurried in, and they saw Joe and Patrick cuddling on the couch.

 

“Aw, they’re like puppies. That’s adorable.” Andy said quietly, and Pete couldn’t take his eyes off of them.

 

“Yeah, I guess so. Joe’s not gonna be able to sleep at all later though. Oh well.”

 

Pete was still vibrating, and Andy nudged him. “Chill out. It’s obviously not romantic. Looks like they were watching movies and fell asleep.”

 

Pete was nearly pouting still, but he nodded, and nudged Andy back. “Go wake them up. I don’t wanna scare them.”

 


	40. Chapter 40

Andy sighed and went over to them, shaking Joe’s shoulder softly. “Hey, wake up Trohman. You’ve been slacking off enough.”

 

Joe grumbled and stirred, and Patrick groaned, trying to move back towards Joe, unhappy that the warmth was being taken away.

 

“Wh--Andy? What time is it?”

 

“It’s nearly seven thirty. Wake up, lazy. And get off Patrick, you’re worrying our dear overlord.”

 

Joe bolted off Patrick and looked wildly around the room, eyes landing on Pete, who looked unimpressed. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed at him, before edging behind Andy. It was comical, especially with Andy being so much shorter than him.

 

Patrick was still sprawled on the couch, breath evening out, and Joe shoves at him lightly. “Patrick, c’mon, wake up. Seriously, we have guests.”

 

Patrick whined, and woke up slowly, his hat and glasses crooked as he sat up. He didn’t remain sleepy for long, however, because when he saw Pete he shrunk back against the couch, and didn’t look at him.

 

Pete was devastated, and he couldn’t even hide it. Not that he needed to from Patrick, who seemed to look at everything except Pete.

 

Andy clasped Joe on the back, and muttered into his ear. “C’mon, let’s leave them alone--”

 

Patrick heard him though, and looked betrayed, and Andy hurried to continue, “we’ll just be in the other room. Call if you need anything; we’ll hear you, I promise.”

 

Pete and Patrick’s eyes were locked on them as they left, and when they were alone, an uncomfortable silence settled over them.

 

Finally, Pete spoke, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, for last night--I didn’t mean to upset you, and I sure as hell didn’t mean to imply that I wanted to eat you. Like--like-- there was a reason I made sure that those clauses you didn’t like didn’t go in. It’s because I _want_  you to be able to consent--or not be able to. You know what I mean?”

 

Patrick didn’t relax, but finally he looked at Pete. “I guessed you didn’t. But it still scared the shit out of me--what made you think that would be okay?”

 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, it’s just. Sometimes I speak without thinking. I called you a lunchbox because you’re filled with my favorite things--figuratively, not literally.”

 

Patrick blinked, and then flushed, looking away from Pete. “Well just. Don’t call me that again, please. And just--I forgive you, but seriously. Think before you speak? You reminded me of what happened, with. You know.”

 

Pete’s face dropped, and he edged closer, “I’m so sorry about that, I really didn’t mean to make you feel like that, or remind you of that. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

 

Patrick shrugged, and then thought it over, before smiling hesitantly, hoping to make Pete feel better. “Well, maybe you could order in and we could watch a movie or something? With the people I’ve met already, I mean. And not in here, because there’s no way everyone’s gonna be able to fit around this laptop.”

 

Pete relaxed, and smiled at Patrick, looking eager, “yeah, of course we can. You can pick the movies, and we can get whatever food you want. Oh, and do you need more food? I don’t really know how much you’ve eaten but I don’t want you running out of food, or anything.”

 

Patrick had relaxed more, and flashed Pete a quick smile. “Well, how did you get the food in the first place? Most grocery stores don’t really stay open that long after dark…”

 

“I have it ordered and dropped off, and I can do it again. This place may be big, but it’s not like, scary, or anything, at least on the outside, so humans will come up here, to drop off food, or blood. So what do you wanna order? Could we get pizza?”

 

Patrick finally laughed outright, covering his mouth to muffle himself, “yeah, we can. We’re going to get proper, Chicago style deep-dish though. Because if you thought last night’s was good, then you’ll love actually good pizza.”

 

“I’m sure I’ll like anything if you recommend it,” Pete says, and Patrick goes bright pink, spluttering for a moment, before he finds his footing.

 

“Yeah, well. I have good taste, what can I say. Comes with liking food, I guess.”

 

Pete nodded, and Patrick stood, brushing his jeans off, Pete’s eyes glued to his thighs before he remembered himself, and looked away. “Let’s collect Andy and Joe and I’ll show you to the media room. We’ve got a bunch of movies and room there. And then we can order pizza?”

 

Patrick laughed again at Pete’s hopeful tone, and followed him out, to where Joe and Andy were sitting on Pete’s bed, talking quietly.

 

“Hey you two, you make up already?” Joe asked, looking away from Andy.

 

Pete raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly cool, because he was a bit annoyed at Joe. “you probably heard that we did, so yes.”

 

Patrick nudged Pete, momentarily ignoring their previous problems. “Be nice--and yes, we are. We’re planning a movie night, you in?”

 

“Hell yeah. I heard something about pizza too?”

 

“Yeah, we wanna know what everyone wants before we order anything.”

 

Andy looked at them, and nodded, “good idea. There are a few of us--including me, and Gabe--who won’t eat most pizzas; not unless it’s vegan.”

 

“So you were vegan when you were human too? That’s cool? I guess?” Patrick wants to add more, maybe ask about how he turned Joe if he was vegan, but he went quiet.

 

Andy quirked an eyebrow at him, knowing he had questions, but he ignored it. “Let’s go then. You have any movies you want to watch?”

 

Pete touched Patrick’s hand slightly, afraid that he’d pull away, but Patrick squeezes his hand quickly, pulling away with a light blush. Pete beamed, and thought over Andy’s question. “The Harry Potter movies are always a classic.”

 

“I’m okay with that. I’ve read the books, so.”

 

“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Joe mutters, and Pete’s eyes light up.

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

“Awesome! What house do you think you’d be in? I think all of us would be Gryffindors, personally--”

 

“You think everyone you like is a Gryffindor, Pete,” Andy said, sounding both exasperated and fond.

 

“Well that’s because they are, obviously.”

 

“Don’t quit your day job to become Sorting Hat, that’s all I’m saying.”

 

“That is very rude; I’m a great judge of character, thank you.”

 

“C’mon, just admit it. Not all of us would be in Gryffindor. Just say ‘Gabe Saporta is a Slytherin’ and I’ll let you be. I won’t even make you admit that I’m obviously a Ravenclaw.”

 

Pete gasped, betrayed. “No way! You’re like Hermione Granger; very smart, but obviously Gryffindor. And Gabe is so not a Slytherin.”

 

“Yes he is. He practically wears a badge that says he is; seriously, his love of snakes? Says something.”

 

Joe and Patrick slowed down, to let Pete and Andy argue in peace, and Patrick bit back a laugh. “Is this normal for them?”

 

“Oh god, you have no idea. They’re great friends, and have been friends for such a long time, and then they have petty arguments like this.”

 

“Better petty than all out battles, I guess.”

 

They stopped suddenly, as Pete turned towards them, nearly pouting. “Which house do you think you would be in, huh?”

 

Patrick blinked, and backed up a step. “Uhh. I don’t know?” He said slowly, hoping that would appease Pete.

 

It didn’t.

 

He turned to Joe, and repeated the same question. Joe shrugged. “I dunno. Isn’t there a sorting quiz we could do or something, to determine this?”

 

Pete’s eyes lit up. “Good idea! Wait right here, I’ll grab my laptop from the study--” and he rushed off, leaving them standing in the hallway.

 

“...does he do this often, or?”

 

“Yes, yes he does. Expect it to happen very often when you’re married.”

 

Patrick mumbled something indistinct at that comment, and shuffled his feet, until Joe wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Could be worse things to be excited about. But now we’re not gonna watch the movie. He’s probably just gonna make us all take an awful Quizilla sorting quiz, and pout if he’s not right.”

 

“As long as we get food, and I know everyone, that’s fine with me. He’s definitely going to be disappointed though. I’d like to be Gryffindor material, but I doubt it.”

 

Andy leaned back against the wall, and studied Joe and Patrick. “Don’t worry. He won’t be nearly as disappointed as when he discovers that he’s a Slytherin and not a Gryffindor--what? You’ll see.”

 

Pete reappeared carrying his laptop, and was nearly bouncing with glee. “C’mon, let’s do this shit!”

 

They exchanged exasperated looks, and followed behind him to the media room at a more sedate pace, letting Pete open the door and go in first.

 

"Right then, no one's in here yet; they're all still waking up. It means we can put a note on the door and make sure no one gets in. You three set up, I'm gonna go roundup our other guests."

 

Pete ruffled their hair as he went past (having to lean up when he passed Joe), and shut the door behind him. They looked at each other, before Andy shook his head.

 

"You two get the movies chosen and set up, I'll write the note out, and try to find an actually good sorting hat quiz." When they looked at him oddly, he shrugged. "Do you want to do a badly spelled quiz? Yeah, that's what I thought."

 

It took fifteen minutes for Pete to come back, and by that time they had set up both the laptop and the television, and were waiting. Following behind Pete was a whole group of people, and Pete waved Patrick over.

 

“Hey, okay. I may have brought some people you haven’t met yet, but I promise they’re friendly. Can I introduce you?”

 

Patrick took half a step back, before nodding, clearly reluctant. “Yeah, okay. Hurry up so we can order food and get started though.”

 

Pete beamed at him, and then opened the door wider. “Okay, everyone Patrick’s already met can get in here; the rest of you stay put until I introduce you.”

 

There was a few grumbled complaints as a rush of people came in to get seats, a few of them nodding at Patrick as they passed, before half the seats were taken up, and there were maybe ten people still waiting outside.

 

“Okay, so, I might as well introduce you to Gabe’s...friends? Partners? I don’t really know what to call them. Anyways, Ryland’s the giant, Suarez is next to him, Nate’s the tiny one, and Victoria is the beautiful and terrifying lady in the front.”

 

They all came in, and Ryland leaned down to shake Patrick’s hand. “We prefer the term ‘associates,’ thank you,” he said in a British accent. Patrick blinked, and there were a few boos from the back of the room.

 

“Cut the accent Ryland, it’s not nearly as cool as you think.” Gabe called, tossing a ball of paper at his head. Ryland dodged, and pouted, walking farther into the room, the rest of them following suit, except for Victoria.

 

Pete rolled his eyes, “right, so Victoria will hurry up and come in--Hayley’s the girl with the bright orange hair who’s even smaller than you are, and Greta’s the pretty blond. C’mon.”

 

Victoria grabbed their hands, looking smug, and dragged them into the room, stopping in front of Patrick to inform him and Pete, “Jenna and Debby said they weren’t coming; same with Sarah and Breezy, and Lyn-Z and Jamia. Something about needing time without boys around.”

 

“What they mean is that they want our rooms to themselves for girl’s night,” Brendon called, eliciting titters from around the room.

 

Pete grinned, and gestured to the four remaining people outside. “Now these four--the short one’s Frank. I think he may even be shorter than you--”

 

“Hey!” Frank said, sounding offended, “I’m not that short, fucker.”

 

Pete waved his hand at him, and he went inside, eyes narrowed at Pete as he did. “Now, the tall one with the glorious ‘fro is Ray. He’s a talented motherfucker--you should show Patrick your skill with music, later on.”

 

Ray grinned, and ducked his head bashfully, before walking in as well, leaving Gerard and Mikey outside. “These two are Mikey fuckin’ Way and Gerard. They’re siblings. Don’t let their appearances fool you, they’re like kittens.”

 

Gerard wrinkled their nose. “Maybe not like kittens; I’m allergic. More like puppies, or--or hamsters.”

 

Mikey smiled, just slightly, before grabbing Gerard’s arm and tugging them into the room. “They’d be there all night if I didn’t,” he said to Patrick, before dragging Gerard to a seat near Ray and Frank.

  
Pete shut the door, before turning to look at all of them. “So, before we get started, who wants to get human food?”


	42. Chapter 42

There was silence, while everyone looked at each other. Joe raised his hands. “Yeah, fuck it, why not. You said it wouldn’t do anything to us, right?”

 

“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t have eaten any if it was dangerous. It just tastes good though, no nutritional value.”

 

“If you’re ordering pizza make one of them vegan, for us,” Gabe said, sprawled out in the middle of ‘his group.’

 

“Can we get tacos as well?” Tyler said, looking hopeful.

 

“Yes to the vegan pizza, maybe on the tacos. Can you drive? You’d have to go pick them up, that’s all I’m saying.”

 

Tyler looked like a deer in the headlights, and glanced at Josh. "Uhh. I can drive, yes. Do you want me to pick up the pizzas too?"

 

"It'd save on the delivery fee," Patrick muttered, and Pete nodded, clapping Patrick on the back.

 

"Yeah, okay then. Let's order and you can pick it all up."

 

"Can I take Josh with me?" Tyler asked, and Josh smiled at Pete hopefully.

 

"Yes you can, now let's order--what would work, ten pizzas? Two of them vegan?"

 

"Uhh. I guess? I don't know how much you all would eat."

 

"Works for me! Patrick, will you order it for us? Please?"

 

Patrick rolled his eyes and did as instructed, before Pete handed his wallet to Tyler and Josh. "Go and take one of the...less expensive cars. Stay safe you two!"

 

Tyler still looked a little wide eyed, but they left, and then Pete grinned at the rest of them. "So, movie first or quiz?"

 

"Quiz? I didn't realize that we were in school," Brendon called out, and Pete let out a bark of laughter.

 

"It's not that bad, just a sorting hat quiz."

 

"Seriously Pete? Why?"

 

"Because, Andy said I was wrong about my house placement and I want to rub it in his face that I'm right and he's wrong."

 

"Fat chance," Andy said, and there was a smattering of laughter. Pete looked like he was ready to sulk, so Patrick sighed.

 

"I'll take the quiz first, if that's what we're doing."

 

Pete beamed, and shoved Patrick towards the computer, and he took a seat, rolling his eyes, before taking the quiz. Pete was hovering over his shoulder the entire time, before Andy sighed and dragged him back.

 

“No, you might influence him. Take a seat--away from Patrick--and wait patiently, like the rest of us.”

 

When Patrick was finished, ten minutes later, Pete perked up, and looked over at him. “Well? Did you get Gryffindor?”

 

Patrick sighed, and turned the screen towards him. “No, I got Hufflepuff. Isn’t that lovely?”

 

Pete’s face fell, before he could help it, and Patrick rolled his eyes.

 

“Hey, hey, no, I think you’d be a great Hufflepuff. Very...loyal. And hardworking?”

 

“You’re just digging the hole deeper, Pete. You gonna bury yourself next? Now do you want to go next, or let someone else try?” Andy asked.

 

“...You go next. I wanna see what you and Joe get.”

 

“What are the rest of us, chopped liver?” Gabe asked, sitting up to stare at Pete, looking offended.

 

“No, of course not. You know I love you Gabey-baby.”

 

Gabe flipped him off, as Andy took the laptop from Patrick, refreshing the page so he could take the quiz, “it helps that we all know you’d be Slytherin anyways Gabe.”

 

“That is very true.” Gabe admitted freely, before leaning back again, wrapping an arm around Bill and Victoria.

 

After Andy went (Ravenclaw), Joe took the quiz (Gryffindor), and Pete was pleased that he was right at least once. Then the rest of them took it, leaving Pete for last. By the time they were finished Tyler and Josh still weren’t back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways this story is still going strong, i have 42000+ words i haven't posted yet, and i'm still writing, along with another thing. 
> 
> Would anyone care about reading some a/b/o stuff with peterick and trohley (pete and andy alpha, patrick and joe omega). Because idk about posting it otherwise


	43. Chapter 43

Tyler and Josh had a Problem.

 

“I thought you said he wasn’t around anymore,” Josh hissed, hands tight on the steering wheel.

 

“Well I thought he wasn’t. Look, he doesn’t see us, so let’s just. Get the pizza, and leave. We don’t need tacos after all.”

 

Josh glanced at him, and nodded, trying to drive casually, so they wouldn’t be noticed. “How did he even find us? It’s not like we live in the same state as before, and we’ve moved around plenty.”

 

Tyler was slumped in his  seat, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. “I dunno. He just _knows_. Let’s hurry up, we’re gonna be late, and they’re gonna yell at us.”

 

Josh reached over and grabbed Tyler’s hand, squeezing, “it’ll all be fine. It’s not like he can get into the house anyways. Now stay in the car, I’ll pick up the pizza.”

 

Tyler nodded stiffly, and when Josh parked and got out Tyler fumbled to lock the car, pulling his hood over his head as he waited. He was jumpy, and when Josh knocked on his window he yelped, embarrassingly loudly.

 

“It’s just me; I have the pizzas, need you to open the trunk.”

 

“No, no, just give them to me. I’ll hold them, now get in the car.”

 

Tyler unlocked the car and Josh got in, handing the pizzas off. “I didn’t see him. Maybe we were just seeing things?”

 

Tyler laughed, a bit hysterically. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe we’re not vampires, and this is all a dream. Maybe he’s just a figment of my imagination.”

 

Josh squeezed his hand again. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to--to imply you didn’t know what was happening. Let’s just get back.” He paused, and said more quietly, “maybe we should tell someone?”

 

Tyler slumped further in his seat. “I really don’t want to. It’s my problem, I don’t want anyone knowing about it.”

 

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s not like all of them have _good_  relationships with their sires--”

 

“It’s still embarrassing though. Like, how I am supposed to tell them, ‘oh, the real reason we don’t tell the truth about how we met was because some vampire who looks exactly like me decided I was interesting and abducted me, and then, so I wouldn’t run he decided to grab you!”

 

Tyler was practically yelling by the time he finished, and Josh pulled over as soon as he could, unbuckling so he could turn towards Tyler.

 

“Hey. Relax, baby boy. We don’t have to tell anyone, and maybe he’s not here for us; maybe he just got bored of Ohio.”

 

Tyler nodded stiffly, and leaned in to kiss Josh quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe. Let’s just. I’ll think that, until it’s proven otherwise. Now let’s go home, please? Don’t want the pizza getting cold.”

 

Josh smiled at him, and buckled up, started the car again. “Good idea. Let’s get back and gorge on pizza, and watch Harry Potter.”

 

Tyler laughed, slightly forced, and held Josh’s hand as he drove. “Yeah. Maybe we won’t have to take that sorting hat quiz since we’re late.”

  
“Aww, but I wanna know what I’d be.” Josh whined, and then grinned at Tyler, who sounded much more natural when he laughed.


	44. Chapter 44

When they got back to the house, they had to hurry to get inside, a bit embarrassed when they opened the door and everyone looked at them.

 

“Sorry, traffic was killer,” Tyler said, attempting to grin.

 

Pete narrowed his eyes, but waved them in, as Brendon and Dallon were shoved to their feet to help with the pizzas.

 

"They're still hot, if that helps at all?"

 

"Yeah, and we brought drinks," Josh added quickly, grabbing a slice and dragging Tyler to their seats, before the rush began.

 

"Well, that's good enough for me. Where's your tacos?" Pete asked, faux casual.

 

"Uhh. We ate them on the way over? Because of the traffic."

 

"Yeah, and we threw the trash out at the pizza place," Tyler added quickly, messing with his hoodie strings.

 

Pete could tell they were lying, but decided to drop it, for their sakes; they were obviously uncomfortable, and he wasn't going to question them in front of everyone.

 

"So," Josh said, in an attempt to change the subject, "how did everyone's house quizzes go?"

 

There were a few groans, and Pete dropped his head into his hands, as Patrick patted him on the back.

 

"Turns out there are less Gryffindors than he thought--including himself."

 

Josh winced. "Ouch. Sorry dude."

 

"I just don't understand how the quiz could say _I'm_  a Slytherin. Me. A _Slytherin_."

 

“Look on the bright side, though. Gabe’s in there, and so are Bill, Victoria--”

 

“And me,” Tyler added, absentmindedly playing with Josh’s hair.

 

They all looked at him. “Seriously?” Brendon finally said. “You didn’t even take the quiz.”

 

“I’ve taken it before though, and it said I was a Slytherin. If it makes you feel any better I made Josh take it and he’s a Gryffindor.”

 

Josh tugged on a strand of his own dyed-red hair. “Yeah I am. Gryffindor pride.”

 

That didn’t make Pete feel any better.

 

Patrick sighed, and patted him on the back again. “Get over it. You’re cunning and ambitious; you kinda have to be to be in charge of everything. Now chill out and put on the movie, asshole.”

 

Pete gave him a betrayed look, as Patrick shoved him off the couch, but he turned on the television, put the movie on before shutting off the lights.

 

“Just for that I’m going to talk during the whole movie marathon.”

 

Patrick just gave him a bitchy look. “Yeah, right. You wouldn’t want to ruin the movie for yourself, and everyone else might kill you. Now shh, it’s starting.”

 

Pete, just to be annoying, wrapped his arm around Patrick’s shoulder and dragged him closer, keeping his mouth away from Patrick’s neck deliberately. If Patrick noticed, or appreciated it, he didn’t mention.

 

Instead he just squirmed, shoving Pete back until he was comfortable, and ate his pizza quietly, like it was normal. And if Pete happened to give Joe a smug look about it, no one could blame him (yes, they really could).

 

Everyone was sprawled out and cuddling someone else, and Pete felt pleased that he could get people together like this; he needed to do stuff like this more often, with all of the house, not just his close friends. He didn’t wanna seem like he playing favorites; even if he really, really was.

 

It was comfortable, surrounded by his closest friends, and with Patrick pressed right up against him; he was warm, felt like a blanket, and Pete felt like him might fall asleep just like this.

 

He always did sleep better with someone in bed with him, and this was yet another example. Even with Patrick’s hat shoved into his shoulder, it was still comfortable, and he found himself matching Patrick’s breaths, as Patrick yawned quietly, and subconsciously moved closer.

 

Pete petted down Patrick’s back, and by the time they put the third movie in, Patrick’s breath was evening out, and his eyes were fluttering closed. Pete felt content. Patrick had forgiven him, and they were watching awesome movies with friends. He could see himself doing this for a long time.

 

After the fourth movie, Pete wormed out of Patrick’s hold, and shut off the television, much to the complaints of everyone.

 

“We’ll watch the last four later; but the sun’s about to come up, and I’m not about to listen to you complain about being tired.” He paused. “Also, I need to take him to bed--not like that--and you’ve all been stationary for too long. Go to bed, all of you.”

 

There was less grumbling after that, as they stood, some of the stretching, while the others started cleaning up, and Pete picked Patrick up carefully, carrying him back to his room.

 

 


	45. Chapter 45

About halfway back, Patrick stirred, mumbling something under his breath, before opening his eyes just slightly. “Are you carryin’ me again? We’ve gotta stop doin’ this.”

 

“Well, maybe if you didn’t keep falling asleep,” Pete said, and he didn’t even bother pretending to stop.

 

“‘s not my fault that you’re all nocturnal. I’m just a human, I need sleep.”

 

“I’m not saying you don’t, ‘Trick. Everyone needs sleep.”

 

“You don’t seem to sleep,” Patrick said, seeming remarkably lucid.

 

“I have insomnia; that doesn’t mean I don’t sleep though.” Pete fumbled to open his door, and when he got inside, he locked the door.

 

Patrick clung tighter to Pete’s neck. “Can I help to make you sleep?”

 

Pete just barely stopped himself from grinning. He bit his lip, and shook his head, trying and failing to seem serious.

 

“No, I don’t think so; now stop squirming, I need to take you to your bed.”

 

Patrick dug his nails into Pete’s neck, and continued squirming. “No. Let me just sleep in here, ‘s easier. And we’ll have to sleep together anyways, when we’re married.”

 

Pete froze, and tightened his arms around Patrick, making him whine. Pete loosened his hold, and shook his head. “Are you drunk right now? You don’t smell drunk.”

 

Patrick shoved at Pete’s shoulder, and huffed. “No, ‘m not. Look, I’m just talking about sleepin’ in the same bed, nothin’ else. C’monnn,” he whined against Pete’s neck.

 

Pete shook his head again. “No. You’re gonna regret it in the morning, and I kick in my sleep.”

 

“So do I, we’re a perfect match. And you can’t make me go to my room,” Patrick said stubbornly, clinging tighter.

 

“Yes I can, I’m carrying you. I can make you go wherever I want.”

 

Patrick didn’t reply; instead he bit Pete’s neck, making him yelp, and drop Patrick. He scrambled to his feet and looked smug; well, as smug as someone who was obviously tired could look.

 

Pete folded his arms. “Patrick, no.”

 

Patrick mirrored him, biting back a yawn, and narrowed his eyes. “Pete, yes.”

 

“Seriously? Why do you even want to--why are you so stubborn?”

 

“‘Cause I can be. You can’t make me go to be room; I’m not a kid.”

 

Pete ran his hand through his hair, looking exasperated. “Seriously? I’m not fighting you on this.”

 

“Good,” Patrick said, and he kicked off his shoes, before laying down on Pete’s bed, and yawning.

 

Pete gaped at him. “That’s not what I meant!”

 

“Too bad, you can’t make me move. Now get in bed, asshole.”

 

“I could sleep naked, for all you know!”

 

Patrick set aside his glasses and hat, and his eyes fluttered closed. “You don’t,” he said confidently. “You already lost, now get over here, I’m tired and I won.”

 

“And you said I’m childish,” Pete muttered, before pulling his shirt off, and kicking out of his shoes and pants, out of spite.

 

“Cause you are, with your guyliner, and your--” Patrick yawned, and trailed off, curling up smaller in the sheets.

 

Pete rolled his eyes, knowing Patrick had fallen asleep, before he double checked the door was locked, and flicked off the lights, climbing into bed. He stayed on his side of the bed, because he didn’t want to freak Patrick out when he woke up.

 

But, it _was_  working. Hearing Patrick breathing quietly made him yawn, and close his eyes, falling asleep surprisingly easily.

 

 


	46. Chapter 46

While they slept, they had migrated towards each other, Pete throwing an arm around Patrick’s waist, with their legs tangled together. It wasn’t that one of them moved closer; in fact, they were both in the middle of the bed, with Pete spooning Patrick.

 

Patrick woke up first, confused about where he was, before his face flooded with color, and he froze.

 

Pete, it turned out, slept like the dead. He also had a very firm grip. Patrick squirmed, to test how Pete would react, and Pete just tightened his hold, pulling Patrick tighter.

 

Patrick dropped his head back onto pillow, and tried to untangle his legs from Pete. It was hard; Pete had very strong legs, probably from all the soccer he said he did.

 

“Fuck,” Patrick muttered, and he turned in Pete’s arms, to try and shove his way out.

 

When that didn’t work, Patrick leaned forward and bit Pete again. “Pete, wake the fuck up,” he hissed.

 

Pete grumbled, and so Patrick bit him again, harder, and Pete woke up with a yelp, only to find Patrick staring at him, looking unimpressed.

 

“Let me up, I need to use the bathroom.”

 

“Did you _bite_  me?” Pete asked, looking offended.

 

“Yes, you wouldn’t let me go, and I tried waking you up other ways. Now let me up, seriously--I need to pee.”

 

Pete tightened his arms, “I can’t believe you _bit_  me. How would you like it if I bit you?”

 

Patrick froze, and glared at Pete, “unlike you, I don’t have _fangs_  that were meant to help me drink blood. So you better not bite me.” He paused, and then added, “dick.”

 

Pete made a face, and buried his face in Patrick’s neck. “Doesn’t mean you should bite me. I can feel pain you know.”

 

Patrick shoved at him, more annoyed than scared, “yeah, so can I. Which is why I’m telling you, right now, I need to pee, let me _up_ , asshole.”

 

When Pete didn’t move, Patrick kicked at him, making Pete yelp again, and let him go, as Patrick scrambled away, and rolled off the bed.

 

Pete sat up, the bedspread pooling around his waist, and laughed at Patrick. “Did you just fall? It serves you right.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, it’s your fault,” he hissed, hauling himself up, and trying not to look at Pete. “Oh my god, are you naked?”

 

Pete leered, “told you I slept naked.”

 

“I hate you, please tell me you’re wearing boxers.”

 

“Why would you want me to lie to you?”

 

Patrick averted his eyes, and went pink, “put some clothes on, you lunatic.”

 

“Hey hey, no need to imply I’m a werewolf. And if you _must_  know, I’m wearing _briefs_ , not boxers. And didn’t you have to go to the bathroom?”

 

Patrick flipped him off, and hurried to the bathroom, as Pete leaned back against the headboard and refused to move, until Patrick got back, looking less panicked.

 

“You’re back already? What, did you miss me?”

 

“I don’t know how anyone could miss your stupid face. You look like a raccoon.”

 

Pete’s smug face faltered, and he got up to go to the bathroom, to wash his face off, as Patrick collapsed back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, rather than at Pete’s back.

 

Well, he thought, that helps solve, the whole am I attracted to guys thing.

 

 


	47. Chapter 47

He was still freaking out when Pete peeked his head back out, cocking an eyebrow at Patrick. “You gonna be okay while I take a shower?”

 

Patrick sat up and stared at Pete, wild eyed. “Do you have clothes in there? Because you better not come out of there naked.”

 

Pete pouted at him ridiculously, before coming out and rummaging through his dresser for clothes. “Are you happy now? I won’t scar your precious virgin eyes with my hot bod.”

 

Patrick started laughing, a tad hysterically, until Pete gave him a weird look and disappeared back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

 

“This is such a fucking cliche, holy shit,” he said faintly, sounding vaguely impressed.

 

He flipped over onto his stomach, and stared at the headboard. “Holy shit, this is like my mom’s romance novels. Christ.”

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, before he realized that his hat was off, and he groped his hand toward the bedside table, to grab it and shove it firmly on his head, as well as his glasses.

 

He eyed the bathroom door, and winced when he heard Pete’s singing, but he was a bit pleased that they were actually getting along. Pete wasn’t being such a dick, and he was relaxing more around vampires.

 

He could admit, if only to himself, that maybe this marriage wouldn’t be a bad thing.

 

Pete came out a few minutes later, thankfully wearing clothes, even if he was dripping wet, and Patrick tried not to stare.

 

“So,” Pete said cheerfully, “what do you want to do today? I mean, tonight you’re going to have to come to the meeting--which’ll be here, thankfully--but other than that, we can pretty much do whatever. And I’m probably not going to go back to sleep, after that rude awakening I got, so you’re stuck with me.”

 

Patrick groaned, and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Oh, goody. Well, I need to take a shower, before anything, and I need to eat, so. I dunno. After that we could watch a movie, or something?”

 

Pete bounced on his heels, and nodded, grabbing his key to unlock Patrick’s door. “Go on and take a shower then, and eat. You have anything specific you wanna watch? I can pick it up from the media room while you’re getting all soaped up and wet.”

 

Patrick huffed, and averted his eyes, trying not to go pink from the image. Pete laughed at him, and Patrick once again cursed his fair complexion, and tendency to blush at the drop of a hat.

 

“Shut up, and go pick out whatever you want, I don’t care. And don’t come in without knocking, I might still be in the shower.”

 

Pete saulted his lazily, and ushered Patrick into his room, so he could lock the door. “Sure thing, pink cheeks; I wouldn’t wanna scare you.”

 

“I hate you,” Patrick called after him, sounding annoyed, “I hate you so much, and I’m disappointed with myself for trying to help you sleep, if this is the thanks I get.”

  
“You love it, ‘Trick,” Pete said, his voice muffled through the door, “don’t pine for me while I’m away.”


	48. Chapter 48

Patrick rolled his eyes, and grabbed some new clothes, going into the bathroom and locking the door, just in case. He turned on the shower, and undressed, getting in and hissing when the water hit him.

 

It was nearly too warm, and it reminded him of waking up in Pete’s arms. “Shit,” he hissed, dropping his head forward into the water, to clear his head. He was achingly reminded that he hadn’t jerked off since he got here, and it wasn’t _fair_. He didn’t even know when Pete would get back.

 

He figured that Pete couldn’t get back _that_  quickly, not with how far away the media room was, and he leaned back against the shower, biting back a yelp at how cold the wall was, before he wrapped his hand around his dick, stroking himself hesitantly.

 

He kept his ears open for any knocks, thankful that both doors were locked, and closed his eyes, tried to relax, think of something that would set him off faster.

 

It wasn’t hard, seeing as he was a teenager, with hair trigger control of himself, and he bit his lip, trying not to moan as he sped up his hand, trying not to slide down to wall, or slip.

 

It wasn’t the _best_  orgasm he ever had; he was nervous, and jumpy, but the image of Pete batting his hand away, taking control of the pace, set him off, and he moaned, a bit too loud, as he came.

 

He bit his lip, and immediately tried to straighten up, breathing a bit heavily, and grabbed a washcloth, so he could clean up before washing his hair quickly, jumpy and nervous, like Pete would know when he came in what Patrick did.

 

He got out quickly, and made sure to be completely dry (because he wasn’t Pete, and he wouldn’t look nearly as attractive with his shirt clinging like Pete did) before he put on his clothes, and shoved his hat on his head.

 

When he got out of the bathroom he was still a bit nervous, which was totally stupid; it’s not like Pete had a sixth sense for that sort of thing, and even if he did, Patrick was a teenager, and he had a right to jerk off without being judged.

 

When Pete got back Patrick was sitting on the couch, and he nearly jumped when Pete knocked on the door. “Hey, Pat, you naked?”

 

Patrick made a face, “no, I’m not; now get in here, assface.”

 

“I love how inventive you are, darling,” Pete simpered, and as he opened the door he was greeted by Patrick flipping him off.

 

He snorted. “Well that’s not life, especially because I brought some fun movies to watch.”

 

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Like what, exactly?”

 

“Like ‘Blond Twink gets Fucked,’ or ‘Two hot Nuns Kiss.’”

 

“I hate you, and if you actually brought porn I’m kicking you in the dick.”

 

“That is very rude, and just for that I’m not letting you watch them with me, which is a pity because these are great.”

 

Patrick just looked at him, and Pete held up his hands, “kidding, kidding. I brought The Matrix and the Terminator movies; because I care. Now, have you eaten yet?”

 

“No, have you?” Patrick said, a bit childishly, and Pete waggled his eyebrows at Patrick, “yeah I have. Seriously though, get food, I’ll set this bitch up.”

 

“Is this behavior normal for you? Because you’re really hyped up right now.”

 

Pete waved his hand dismissively, and put one of the DVDs in the player. “I’m just really happy right now, and suffering from lack of sleep, because someone _bit_ me this morning.”

 

“Get over it, it was the only way to escape your monster hold, unless you wanted me to piss myself? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

 

“Okay, calm down, I’m sorry for cuddling you without consent; but to be fair, I told you that you should sleep in your own bed, _and_  when I went to sleep both of us were on opposite sides of the bed.”

 

“That doesn’t prove anything, except that you’re really clingy, even when you’re asleep. Also, I was totally right about getting you to sleep, wasn’t I?”

 

Pete snorted, and flopped down on the sofa, listening for a moment to Patrick moving around in the kitchen. “Next time you want me to sleep, all you’ve gotta do is sing at me. You’ve got the voice of an angel, Trick.”

 

There was the distinct sound of Patrick fumbling something, and then a thump, before Patrick cursed. “You can’t just say stuff like that, you--silly straw-fanged jerk.”

 

“Are you saying my teeth are crooked? That’s not very nice, Patrick. I think I’m going to cry now, and you’re going to have to comfort me.”

 

“No I won’t, because you aren’t crying, and you’re stupid, and I hate you.”

 

“You never mince words, do you? Now get in here, as punishment you have to cuddle with me, and I won’t even try to cop a feel during the scary parts.”

 

“You’re not even going to try anyways, and I’m not scared of those movies; plus I’ll be eating. So it’s not going to be pretty.”

 

“I don’t care, you’re still my date, o’fiance mine, and I’m gonna try the yawn and stretch now.”

  
“You do that and I’ll punch you,” Patrick said, but he sounded more fond now.


	49. Chapter 49

Pete looked over the back of the couch and beamed at him. “You wouldn’t, because you _love_  me, admit it.”

 

Patrick, who was coming back into the room, stumbled, and went a blotchy shade of red.

 

“If I’m in love, what does that make you? Because you’re more affectionate than I am, so there.”

 

Pete looked at him, alarmingly sincere. “It means I’m also in love, and care about you, Patrick. Now get back over here, it’s movie time.”

 

Patrick was still red, and shook his head, “yeah, well, seeing as I’m not in love, you’re not in love either, so there.”

 

“You can believe whatever you want to believe, but you should just know, I’m glad that you were chosen to marry me.”

 

Patrick huffed, and took his seat, letting Pete tug him close and press a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, well. I guess it’s not too bad, I guess.”

 

Pete wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and started up the movie, snatching a bite of Patrick’s food as he did. “I knew you cared!”

 

Patrick was still red, but he leaned back into Pete’s arm, and batted his hand away from his plate. “Hands off; you don’t even need to eat, so stop stealing from me.”

 

“But you have great taste in food, and you’re the one who got me back into human food. And the food when I was actually human wasn’t nearly as good as this.”

 

“Not my fault, not my problem. I know I may not seem like it, but I do need to eat.”

 

Pete pulled away to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? I think you look fine.”

 

“Whatever, I know I don’t look great, especially compared to literally every vampire ever, it’s fine. You don’t have to lie.”

 

The movie was being ignored, as Pete grabbed Patrick’s food and put it on the table, squirming into Patrick’s lap. “Hey, look at me. I think you’re attractive. Like yeah, vampires are meant to be sexy, or whatever, but it gets boring after a while. You’re fucking sexy, without being a vampire, and that’s _awesome_. You’re awesome.”

 

Patrick avoided his eyes, trying to watch the screen, rather than Pete’s face, but it was hard; for one, Pete was right _there_ , in his face, and Patrick sighed, patting Pete on the face. “Yeah, I get it. Thanks, or whatever. You think I’m hot; can we watch the movie please?”

 

His attempt to remain nonchalant failed, when his voice cracked on the last syllable, and his face was _burning_.

 

Pete cooed at him, and planted a wet kiss on Patrick’s cheek, before moving out of his lap. “Of course we can. Grab your food and start eating; I promise I won’t steal too much of it.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. Shut up, this is my favorite part,” Patrick said, avoiding Pete’s eyes. But, after a few minutes of quiet, Patrick muttered, low enough that Pete could barely hear, “I think you’re pretty cute too, I guess.”

 

Pete grinned and snuggled even closer, but didn’t mention it; he felt that Patrick was probably embarrassed enough.

 

 


	50. Chapter 50

When it reached around seven thirty, Pete paused the movie, stretching with a groan. “Well, I’m afraid that we have to get dressed up all snazzy, for the meeting tonight.”

 

Patrick groaned, and leaned back further into the couch, looking up at Pete, “seriously? Why do I have to come? It’s not like I’m going to do anything.”

 

Pete stood, and tugged Patrick to his feet. “You’re hopefully gonna sign your emancipation papers, and then we can get this wedding thing rolling. And don’t worry, I’m probably not going to have to carry you back here this time.”

 

“You didn’t have to any other time either, I could’ve walked, you know.”

 

“But I _wanted_  to carry you. You’re all sweet when you’re not snapping at me.”

 

“Well, my tactics obviously didn’t work, if you think I’m cute and sweet regardless. And are you gonna let me pick my own clothes this time?”

 

Pete leered inexpertly at him, “I’m gonna make you model for me. You’re beautiful, I’m sure you could work a camera.”

 

Patrick snorted, and covered his mouth to laugh. “Yeah, are you looking in a mirror or something? Because the only one photogenic here is you, Vampire McTattoos.”

 

“You know, when this is finished, I’ve gotta find whoever taught you your insults, and shake their hand.”

 

Patrick shoved him, and rolled his eyes. “Whatever, go pick out what I’m supposed to wear; and god knows I never expected to say those words to you.”

 

“I am perfectly fashionable, thank you. You must need a new glasses prescription, or something.”

 

“Or you need better taste in clothes; seriously, it’s like a Hot Topic threw up all over you.”

 

“Wow, rude. I’ll have you know I’ve never stepped foot in one of those.” Pete threw a shirt and a nice pair of jeans at Patrick.

 

“Try these on, see if they work. And fine, you can pick out my outfit, if you’re so offended by my amazing clothes.”

 

“Fine, I will,” Patrick said haughtily, before he took his clothes and went into the bathroom to change.

 

“You’ve seen me half naked, and slept with me when I was wearing only my briefs, and you’re too shy to change in front of me?”

 

“Yes, actually, and you can’t guilt me into changing in front of you; not even when we’re married.”

 

“I wouldn’t force you to do anything. But I’m definitely getting you in front of a mirror and showing you how hot you are.”

 

Patrick apparently didn’t deem that important enough to reply to, and came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing the red polo and the dark wash jeans. “How’s this, then?”

 

“You look fantastic, but then again, you always do.” Patrick flushed, and Pete rubbed his hat. “Put your cool new hat that I got you, and then you can help decide what I wear.”

 

Patrick changed hats quickly, and then Pete let him into his room, flourishing his hands at his closet. “Do your worst.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, and dug through the closet until he found a black button down, and a fitted pair of black trousers.

 

“Try this on; and before you complain, just _try_  it.”

 

“And you said _I_  dressed like an emo kid. Fine, fine, hand it over.”

 

Patrick tossed it to him, and pointed at the bathroom. “Change in _there_ , not in front of me.”

 

Pete rolled his eyes and went, changing quickly, and when he came out Patrick nodded slightly, before going up to him.

 

“Okay, just--maybe not that buttoned up--” he said, and then he reached up and unbuttoned enough of Pete’s shirt that his thorns were showing, before he rolled up Pete’s cuffs as well, exposing more of his tattoos.

 

“There. Is that okay with you, Mr. Fashion?”

 

Pete looked in the mirror, and smiled slowly, before dragging Patrick into a hug. “You have good taste, when it comes to people other than yourself. I look very...leaderlike. And hot.”

  
Patrick let Pete hug him for a moment, before he finally squirmed away, tugging on his shirt to straighten it. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”


	51. Chapter 51

Pete tugged Patrick closer, wraps an arm around his shoulders as he lead him out of the room, and towards the meeting room, where Bill, Travie, Gabe, and Andy are standing. Patrick blinks, and looks up at Pete.

 

“What is Andy doing here?”

 

Andy smiled at Patrick, and waved. “I used to go to these meetings, but when you came, and with Joe--I stopped going. But since it’s happening here, I can help out again.”

 

Bill nodded his welcome at Pete and Patrick, before he smiled approvingly, “you both look very nice. Now, the room is all cleaned out and nice, and I’ve got Victoria and the rest of the Cobras on door duty.”

 

“We want to welcome them, not terrify them,” Pete said, stifling a smile.

 

Bill waved his hand extravagantly, “it’s not as though they don’t try to do the same. And they’ll need all the protection they’ll get, navigating this place.”

 

Pete nodded his agreement, and waved them all into the room; it was all dark wood, and an intimidatingly large table, which someone had added blood red accents to. All in all it looked very…

 

“Vampiry. This looks like a stereotypical vampire room. Are there cobwebs in the corner as well?” Patrick asked, with just a tad of awe in his voice.

 

“Nope, we keep this place pretty clean. And I’m glad you like it.”

 

Patrick nodded, still looking around the room, “yeah, it’s great. But if you didn’t want to intimidate them, I wouldn’t have set it up like this. All you need are wine glasses filled with blood.”

 

“You offering?” Gabe said, before holding up his hands when Pete glared at him. “Kidding, I’m kidding. And don’t worry, the wine glasses won’t be filled with blood; just red wine.”

 

Patrick whistled lowly, “that’s very devious. You’re definitely more likely to get your way if you do that.”

 

"Why thank you," Travie said, taking a bow. "It was my idea, and those fuckers didn't believe me."

 

"Now now dear, watch your language; we have little ones about," Bill said mildly, pointing at Pete and Patrick.

 

Patrick narrowed his eyes, but Pete just flipped him off. "I know you're just jealous because your gangly stork legs make you look like a giraffe when you're drunk."

 

"Now now children, let's not fight; you're all very pretty. And besides, your guests are arriving soon," Andy said, before leading Patrick to his seat, and sitting next to him.

 

"I'm mostly here to look intimidating, really; I don't find much to say with these four chatter mouths doing all the talking."

 

"Hey, we heard that--and you don't talk much anyways."

 

Andy went to reply, he tilted his head and stayed silent, looking to the door as the others followed his lead.

 

The four human leaders were shown into the room, looking intimidated; they only became more so when they saw the decoration, and the wine.

 

Pete smiled at them, all teeth, before waving them further in, and showing them their seats. "Hello," he said, sounding pleasant, "would you care for something to drink?"

 

David puffed up, looking self righteous, "what exactly are you offering us here?"

 

Gabe picked up a bottle, and brandished it at him, "wine, of course--what did you think we were offering?"

 

Charles shook his head, declining the offer. "No thank you--we would prefer to remain sober during this conversation."

 

Pete shrugged and took his glass, swilling it around--the drink in it looked very distinctly not like wine, and he smiled at them again.

 

"Good choice. Now, let's get down to the first order of business, shall we? The papers for Patrick, if you please."

 

 


	52. Chapter 52

Christina took the papers out of her bag, and slid them across the table. "Here you are; I've put an 'x' next to the places you need to sign and initial, Mr. Stump, so if you will--"

 

Pete raised his hand, silencing her. "Let us read through the paperwork first--I want to make sure it's all complete." And skimmed them quickly, before handing them off to Patrick.

 

"Now, while he's reading those, let's go back over what we were talking about previously..."

 

Patrick ignored him, reading each line of the contract carefully, as Andy, reading over his shoulder, did the same. It all _seemed_  in order, but then again, Patrick wasn't an attorney, and hasn't ever seen the paperwork before.

 

When Andy nodded at him, and slipped him a pen, Patrick signed and initialed carefully, and let Andy witness it, before he slid the paperwork back to Pete, who gave him a sideways smile.

 

"Here you are--I hope you'll process those immediately, so we can get the treaty signed, and the wedding over with."

 

Michael was the one who took the papers back, and he looked slightly annoyed at having to do it, but didn't protest. "I'm sure this will take no time at all, and you'll be married shortly; Mr. Stump, I hope you know what you're doing."

 

Patrick's temper flared, and he opened his mouth to retort when Andy shook his head, "don't bother," he muttered, "they just want to rile Pete up."

 

Pete didn't take the bait, just smiled charmingly. "Well, now that that's all over and done with, we can continue discussing rights for non-violent vampires; for instance, even if blood banks were not created to help them, shipments of coconut water would also work well--"

 

It was around that time that Patrick zoned out, more focused on Pete than he was on the words coming out of his mouth.

 

He kind of regretted his choice of Pete's attire, because wow. The tattoos combined with the black shirt and Pete's natural complexion? That had to be illegal like, everywhere. It was probably the most attractive thing Patrick had seen in a long time.

 

Patrick blinked, and shook his head. Wow, okay me, just because we've recently discovered we like Pete doesn't mean we can disregard our interest in girls.

 

Thankfully no one looked at him oddly, and he slumped just a bit in his seat, bored. Andy glanced at him, and coughed, making David pause in his speech.

 

“Yes, Mr. Hurley? Is something the matter?”

 

Andy didn’t look at him; instead, he stared straight at Pete, whose eyes flicked between he and Patrick, before he nodded slightly.

 

Andy stood, and pulled Patrick up as well. “I’ll be right back,” Andy said to no one in particular, before he pulled Patrick out of the room.

 

“Hey, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.” Patrick protested, and then immediately regretted it; he didn’t _want_  to go back in there.

 

“Oh, I know, but you didn’t have to be there, and I wanted to stretch my legs. C’mon, let’s go to the music room.”

 

Patrick followed behind him closely, and they were at the music room quickly, where plenty of people were situated. He thankfully recognized some of them, and Joe waved them over, making space for them on the couch.

 

“Hey. The meeting over already? Or did you just get bored and miss me,” Joe said, elbowing Andy playfully.

 

Andy grinned, and wrapped an arm around Joe’s shoulder, tugging him closer. “a little bit of both. We weren’t really needed, anyways; Patrick signed his papers and I was sufficiently intimidating. What have you been up to?”

 

“Well, you know--watching Brendon mess with Dallon, playing the guitar, listening to the girls’ stories about when they were human. It’s all really cool.”

 

“The girls? I know they were mentioned last night, but I think I’ve only met three of them.”

 

“Yeah, that’s cause they’ve got their own club, of sorts. They don’t hang around us that often.”

 

One of the girls looked up at them, and grinned brightly, “that’s because you’re all smelly boys,” she said, in a high pitched voice, before laughing.

 

She nodded at the group and stood, coming towards them as the rest of the group dispersed, some of them following the girl, some of them leaving the room, and some of them just taking seats elsewhere.

 

She extended her hand towards Patrick. “Hello, I’m Jenna. I’m afraid we didn’t meet last time around.”

 

Patrick smiled at her, and shook her hand carefully, “it’s nice to meet you, Jenna.”

 

Jenna gestured behind her, "and this is Debby."

 

Debby waved at Patrick, and smiled, and he found himself smiling back. "So, are you adjusting okay? I know Pete can be a little overwhelming at first."

 

Patrick scooted closer to Andy and Joe, and motioned for them to take a seat. "Well, y'know, he's fine. He's kinda sweet, in a dumb sort of way."

 

Jenna leaned into Debby and smiled, "I'm glad! He's nice, and you both deserve to be happy--I think he's one of the few vampires here who hasn't found his mate yet. And I bet you could keep him on track--from what I've heard, anyways."

 

Patrick blushed, and tried to swallow his embarrassment. "Oh? What exactly have you heard?"

 

"Just that you two bicker like you're already married--and that Pete really likes you, but you probably already know that; he's not a very good liar when it comes to feelings."

  
A voice called Jenna and Debby's names, and they turned towards the speaker. "Well, that's our cue to leave--it was very nice to meet you, I can't wait for your wedding!" They stood, and walked towards Tyler and Josh, leaving Patrick with Andy and Joe.


	53. Chapter 53

"So, that was two of the lovely ladies who make this place so much brighter than it would be; Brendon will probably drag Sarah, Breezy, and Dallon over as well."

 

"Ah. That sounds fun?"

 

"Oh, it will be; Brendon makes anything fun."

 

“Umm, okay? That sounds great?”

 

Joe snorted. “It’ll be fine; Brendon’s just very ‘excitable’, is the term I’d use I guess.”

 

“Oh. So he hasn’t been a vampire long then?”

 

“What? No, he’s been one almost as long as Pete. Same Sire, y’know? William wanted someone who wanted to stick around, and Pete and Brendon got along.”

 

“Oh. So, um. How exactly do you turn someone, anyways? Is it just biting them, or?”

 

"Well, it's not typically talked about, but seeing as you're gonna know sooner or later-- Andy, you know more about it than I do."

 

"Well, I would hope so. Look, it's like. You've never been bitten, right?"

 

Patrick shook his head, feeling a bit sick at the thought.

 

"Well, most vampires have a venom--we don't really know how it works, but we do know it can be used two ways; healing, and changing.

 

The venom isn't used all the time though; it's only when the vampire _wants_  to use it--you with me so far?"

 

Patrick nodded slowly, "yeah? So if they just bite a person, there's no venom."

 

"Right. The healing property is used to heal up the wound; the vampire licks the bite mark, and it closes up, and clots the blood, so it'll stop bleeding. It just leaves a scar--which no magic can get rid of."

 

Joe pulled down his shirt just enough to show off his bite mark; Patrick didn't look at it too closely.

 

"Believe me, we've tried plenty of different ways over the years.

 

"The second way it's used to change people. Then, it's injected at the very beginning; goes through the bloodstream, changes a person from the inside."

 

"And how long does the process take?"

 

"Well, usually about twelve hours or a day; it has to cycle throughout. People usually sleep through it. Granted, it's usually a-- never mind."

 

Patrick looked a little ill, but he nodded. "And what, I'm gonna--he's gonna change me, whenever?"

 

"Well, not whenever. Probably when you're ready. He's not gonna change you without your consent."

 

"But he'll still change me?" Patrick sounded oddly insistent.

 

"Well, he won't want you to die. We're _immortal_ , Patrick. You think he wants to watch you grow old and then die?"

 

"I guess not," he muttered, looking down at his hands.

 

Joe touched his shoulder carefully, "hey, you tired? Let me take you back to your room."

 

"You're gonna need a key for that," Andy said, and extracted it from his pocket.

 

Joe kissed Andy quickly, and stood, pulling Patrick up. They were both silent as they walked back to the room, and when they got in Patrick kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed. Joe followed close behind.

 

 


	54. Chapter 54

After a few moments of silence, Joe spoke. "So," he said awkwardly, "you're scared, huh?"

 

Patrick laid back on the bed and curled up, and Joe, with a sigh, draped himself on Patrick. "It's okay to be scared yanno. I sure as hell was, and so was Andy, and probably all of them."

 

Patrick curled up even further, and Joe hugged him, "my point was, everyone's scared, and all of us have made it; I'm not trying to make you want to be changed, or anything like that."

 

"It's just--I'm--I don't wanna be bitten," Patrick said finally. "Like yeah, I get it; you were scared too. But--your parents are still alive. I walked in on my parents and siblings, covered in their own blood--what was left of it, I mean. The fucking _bite marks_ \--" he shuddered, and went silent.

 

Joe swallowed hard, and stroked down Patrick's side soothingly. "Hey, s'okay. I won't let anyone get near you with fangs, I promise. No one's gonna bite you, I promise."

 

"You can't make that promise; you're not in charge, are you? Fuck, I shouldn't have asked about that."

 

"It's fine to be curious, and I don't care if I'm not in charge. Pete or anyone tries to bite you, I'll attack them."

 

Joe paused, and then, in a quieter tone, "although, I don't think Pete's gonna try it any time soon, if at all. I heard about the whole needing consent thing, and that's a good sign, right?"

 

"I guess so. It doesn't make the idea any more appealing though." Patrick sniffed, and then, whispered, "Joe, can you do something for me?"

 

"Yeah, of course. What is it?"

 

"Can you lie to me?"

 

Joe blinked, sitting up a bit to look at him. "I--guess? Sure."

 

"Thank you." There was a few minutes silence, and Joe nearly thought that Patrick had drifted off. But then, Patrick spoke again.

 

"Does it hurt? Being bitten."

 

Joe sucked in a breath, and shook his head. "No, no it doesn't. Feels nice, really." He paused, "you get woozy after a bit, and fall asleep. They wouldn't have felt anything."

 

Patrick nodded, and turned to bury his face in Joe's neck. "Thanks, Joe. That helps a lot."

 

Joe petted down Patrick's back, and didn’t say anything about how Patrick was shuddering, crying softly, and Patrick doesn't say anything about how Joe's holding him tightly, tears in his eyes as well.

  
They fell asleep like that, not even bothering to cover themselves. 


	55. Chapter 55

Andy went back to the meeting room, slipping back into his chair and paying attention to the proceedings, and while the other leaders were speaking, Andy slipped Pete a note, 'Joe took Patrick back to room; don't be surprised if they're asleep when you get back.'

 

Pete glanced at him, and scribbled something on the paper, and slid it back, 'guess you're sleeping with me tonight, yeah?'

 

Andy nodded, and they paid attention to the proceedings again, Pete more anxious to get it over with than ever.

 

By the time it was over, Pete was impatient enough to be rude to their guests, checking the time and pretty much shoving them out the door, without even a goodnight.

 

He knew it was rude, but at that point, he didn’t even care. Someone else could deal with them; he was more concerned with how Patrick was doing, because there was no way Andy wouldn’t let them leave unless something was wrong.

 

Andy waved at Bill, Gabe, and Travie, mouthed ‘Patrick’ at them, and when they nodded in understanding, he followed Pete out, and down the hall.

 

“Pete, slow down. They’re both fine, and like I said, Joe’s just spending the night again.”

 

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have--what happened? Is he upset? Did someone say something to hurt him?”

 

“No, no one tried to hurt him on purpose. He just got freaked out a bit. He asked about how vampire bites worked, and I told him.”

 

Pete spun around and looked at him, wild eyed. “Why would you do that? Of course it freaked him out!”

 

“Because I wasn’t going to lie to him, and he asked. I didn’t realize it would remind him of anything, and for that I’ll apologize--to him, not you. He’s the one who’s rightfully upset, and I’m not apologizing for telling him the truth, not to you.”

 

Pete blew out a breath, and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re still staying with me tonight, right?”

 

“Of course I am. I said I would, and I know you wouldn’t sleep otherwise. Now open your door, so we can check on them before we do sleep.”

 

Pete made a face at Andy, but did as he was told, letting Andy in first before following behind, locking the door. The door to Patrick’s room was slightly ajar, and Pete frowned, but decided he wouldn’t mention it, instead moving into the room, and staring at the bed.

 

“Well,” Andy said quietly, “I think we might be spending more and more nights together after this. Have you considered getting a bigger bed? Then we’d all be able to fit.”

 

Pete was seriously considering it, before he shook his head, “we’re all tiny dudes--except Joe--we could all fit, probably. But that’s for later. Let’s just leave them to it, and go to bed.”

 

Andy nodded, and grabbed a blanket, as Pete did the same, and they covered Joe and Patrick. Pete carefully took Patrick’s glasses off his face, and moved his hat as well, before he brushed a kiss over Patrick’s forehead, and smooth his hair down.

 

Andy had brushed a kiss over Joe’s cheek, and made sure to tuck the blanket over Joe firmly, before he shut off the light, and he and Pete left the room. They didn’t bother to lock it, and they quietly got undressed, before sliding into bed, and going to sleep.

 

 


	56. Chapter 56

When Joe woke up, he was momentarily confused about what exactly was covering him, and where it came from, but then he saw that the door was closed, and that Patrick’s hat was off.

 

He sighed, and laid back down, tugging Patrick closer and closing his  eyes, before going back to sleep, warm and comfortable.

 

He was glad that Pete seemed to be over his jealousy, enough that he was fine with he and Patrick cuddling, and he drifted off again, to the sound of Patrick’s steady heartbeat.

 

Pete and Andy were in the same position, albeit a little less puppypile and a bit more tangled up, with Pete's arm under Andy's head, and their legs tangled together, with Pete's free arm stretched over Andy's chest.

 

It was very comfortable though, and a position they were used to. Sometimes even big scary vampires need a cuddle, after all. And both of them were very grateful that the other didn't snore, as it would be very annoying very quickly.

 

They'd been doing it for years, and this was what they were most comfortable with; and now Andy didn't need to pin Pete down so he didn't move, or stay awake, which was a bonus.

 

Pete woke up first--before even Patrick and Joe--and didn't move. He still felt tired, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, although he desperately wanted to. And he couldn't move without waking Andy up; it sucked.

 

He realized why he couldn't with a jolt--for one, he still wanted to check on Patrick, and for another, he had apparently been spoiled for cuddles when he slept with Patrick the day before. It was awful.

 

But Patrick was the perfect amount of cuddly and softness, compared to Andy's muscles, and Patrick fit into his arms, and even if he did complain and insult Pete, he still enjoyed it, and let Pete insult him right back.

 

He thought back to Andy's joke of a comment, about buying a bigger bed, and realized that he'd do it in a heartbeat if Patrick wanted; it wasn't the healthiest relationship he'd ever had, but then again, it made them more equal, which was good enough for Pete.

 

And hey, a bigger bed would be good for other activities, besides cuddle sessions with Joe and Andy, or whoever else they wanted to invite.

 

It meant more room for Pete to get Patrick sprawled out, to kiss his way down Patrick's body, before shoving his knees up to his chest and watching his fingers sink into Patrick, while he begged for more.

 

Andy stirred, and groaned quietly, "that better not be your dick poking me in the ass," he said in a groggy voice.

 

Pete was stuck between wanting to pull away and wanting to make a joke about it, as Andy yawned and untangled their legs. He didn't seem upset at least, and Pete moved closer to him, nuzzling his neck.

 

"It's all for you baby," he murmured in Andy's neck.

 

Andy elbowed him. "Don't even try it, Wentz. Get off of me."

 

Pete rolled over onto his back with an ‘oof,’ as Andy sat up, and stretched. “Well, it seems like someone had a good morning.”

 

“You know it,” Pete said, staring at the ceiling. “Hey, do you think Joe and Patrick are awake?”

 

“You that keen to get rid of me, Wentz? And nah, I don’t think they are.”

 

“Damn, I was hoping to get you off of my back.”

 

Andy cocked an eyebrow, and blew him a kiss. “You were the one on my back, not the other way around. Now take a shower, and then we’ll go check on them.”

 

Pete cheerfully flipped him off, and went to the bathroom to shower quickly, and when he was finished Andy went in and did the same. It took about fifteen minutes for them to be dressed and ready, and then Pete opened the door to Patrick’s room, which was still dark, as they both slept.

 

“How many hours of sleep do teenagers even _need_? Because this is ridiculous. They’re going to screw up their sleep schedule.”

 

“Well, they wouldn’t like it if you set them a bedtime, so unless you have another idea, this is what you’re going to get.”

 

“They apparently like sleeping together-- shut up, I’m not jealous--so maybe instead of a bedtime, we just drag them to bed--platonically.”

 

“If you wanted to get us all in bed, all you had to do was ask, Pete.”

 

Pete didn't even blink. "That's what I just did. We'll just move you and Joe to Patrick's room when we get married, and we'll share a bed. Everyone sleeps and everyone's happy. Patrick's bed can stay so you have a place to do things other than sleep."

 

Andy gaped at him, "I--seriously? How long have you been thinking about this?"

 

Pete shrugged. "Not that long. It's a good idea though. You get privacy, and we all get sleep--you know I sleep better with people in bed with me."

 

Andy opened and closed his mouth a few times, before he shook his head. "We'll talk about this when they're awake."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my name is Lexi FandomAnon and I like platonic and poly cuddles


	57. Chapter 57

Andy looked at Pete again, before going over to Joe and shaking him lightly. "Joe, wake up."

 

Joe took his arm away from Patrick and batted at Andy. "Shh, sleeping."

 

"I can see that. You need to wake up though, and let go of Patrick, as cute as you two look."

 

Joe shook Patrick, who opened his eyes and turned to look at them blearily, and rubbed his eyes. Pete very manfully tried to stop himself from cooing.

 

He barely succeeded, although Andy's sideways glance at him told him he didn't do as great a job as he thought.

 

"Why are you guys up so early?" Patrick said finally, sitting up.

 

He and Joe were still cuddling, and Andy coughed, gaining Patrick's attention. "Well, for one," he said slowly, "I owe you an apology, for upsetting you last night."

 

Patrick shrugged, and looked away, grabbing his glasses and hat and tugging them on. "It's fine, you didn't know, and I did ask. And what's the other reasons you're in here then?"

 

"Because you've been sleeping for a while, and screwing up your sleep schedule by doing it."

 

"What're we supposed to do instead? It's not like we can go out or anything."

 

Andy looked at Pete, who folded his arms, and tried to look imposing. "We need to have a talk, I think."

 

Joe edged backwards on the bed, and Patrick looked at him with wide eyes. "Um. What do we need to talk about?"

 

Andy sat on the bed and rolled his eyes. "He's being stupid, it's nothing that serious."

 

Pete dropped the pose and pouted at Andy, "you ruined it! Stop making people less scared, dammit."

 

Andy just waved at him to continue, dragging Joe closer, as Patrick instinctively followed. Pete made a face, gathering his thoughts.

 

"Right, well. We've noticed that both of you seem to enjoy each other's company very much--"

 

"Wait," Joe blurted out, "are you accusing us of dating?"

 

"What? No, of course not. We'd be able to tell if you were doing anything like that." Abruptly, Patrick went pink, and looked away.

 

"But, if you two like sleeping together, it's for comfort, right? And when you two do, Andy and I do as well."

 

Joe and Patrick looked at each other, and Patrick spoke. "Um. Are you asking for an open relationship?"

 

Pete waved him off, impatient, "no, I'm not. I'm just saying at this point it'd be much easier on all of us if we slept together. By that I mean in the same bed. Not sex."

 

Joe gaped rather unattractively, looking at Andy, who shrugged. "He mentioned it before, and I told him to mention it to you."

 

Pete was bouncing on his toes, and smiling, just a bit nervously. "Just think about it. I'm not saying sex, because we--" he motioned at himself and Patrick, "haven't even discussed that yet. I'm just saying that sometimes, if we all wanted, you two could take this room, since it's bigger than your room now, and stay in here, and Patrick and I could take my room, and we all sleep together in the bed, for comfort."

 

Patrick shifted on the bed, flushing deeper at the mention of sex. "What exactly brought this on? And, uh, we also need to discuss the where my stuff is going to go, if you're giving away my room."

 

He seemed remarkably calm about the whole thing though, which Pete considered a good thing; it meant he was possibly okay with the idea, if he was thinking of the problems that might arise.

 

"Well, we all like cuddling, obviously, and if we all slept together it'd give us more options of how to, y'know." He trailed off, looking at them hopefully.

 

Patrick sighed, and rubbed his face, "I guess that'd be fine with me? I mean, you seem to sleep better with people around, and I mean, as long as it wasn't sexual..."

 

"Yeah; no offense, but I'm strictly monogamous--unless we're talking about girls." Andy pinched Joe, making him yelp, and wriggle away. "It was a joke, I swear--you're the only person for me, promise."

 

"You had better be," Andy said serenely, "or else I'd be jealous of all the time you spend with Patrick."

 

"Well, we could move your stuff in my room; you don't have much, and all. And then they move in here--"

 

"Well, how would they get out of their room if we were in here? And how often are we talking?"

 

"I'll build another door, so they can, and however often we want, I don't know." Pete sounded frustrated, and ran his fingers through his hair.

 

He sighed, and tried to relax. "It's just--I want us all to be happy, and if this is the way, I want it to work."

 

Andy crawled forward and yanked Pete on to the bed with them. “It’s going to work regardless of if we decide that we want to spoon every night. This isn’t going to be a mistake, and you don’t have to stress yourself out about this.”

 

Joe gave Patrick a look, and together they flopped on Pete, Joe on his legs and Patrick on his chest, to pin him down.

 

“Yeah, what Andy just said. Seriously, as cuddly and awesome Patrick is, I miss sleeping in bed with Andy; but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to cuddle with all of you. Maybe it could be a once a month thing or something? And, as awesome as this room is, moving everything would suck. Although a bigger bed would be cool…”

 

Pete didn’t move out from under them, even as Andy began petting his hair. “I don’t think we need a bigger bed, with how much room we have right now,” he countered mildly. “And Pete, relax. You’re our leader, and we’re your loyal. Well, not minions, or followers, but still; we _care_  about you. You don’t have to worry about that.”

 

Patrick was stroking Pete’s tattoos absentmindedly, and that alone made Pete not mind the bill of Patrick’s hat digging into him, or how Joe was making his legs fall asleep.

 

Patrick wasn’t looking at him as he said, “yeah, pretty much. I mean--all of us care about and--and love you, I guess. You make that easy--even if you are a dick.”

 

Pete’s eyes widened, and he smiled slowly, “hey, you said you love me.”

 

Patrick went pink, and dug his nails into Pete’s chest, “shut up, I did not. I said all of us care about you.”

 

“Yeah, and that you _love_  me. I love you too ‘Trick.”

 

“You’re a dick and I hate you. You heard me completely wrong, and stop putting words in my mouth.”

 

Joe looked mischievous, and poked Patrick, “you did kinda say it dude. It’s okay though, it’ll be our secret. What a shame though, that you’re in love with the person you’re going to marry--it must be awful.”

 

Patrick shoved at them, and they rolled off of Pete, as Patrick straddled Joe and poked his fingers into Joe’s ribs, “shut up, I hate you too.”

 

 


	58. Chapter 58

Joe laughed, and squirmed under him, and Pete sat up to watch them, as Joe flipped them and started tickling Patrick, making him giggle and try and punch Joe.

 

“Hahaha--help, c’mon, this isn’t fair--ahaha--”

 

Pete shook his head, and leaned back against Andy, “sorry, but I don’t like helping people who hate me.”

 

“I--don’t hate you, help, please-- Joe, get off--” and he had tears in his eyes as he kept laughing, Joe’s maniacal grin not helping one bit.

 

“Admit you love me, and maybe I’ll rescue you.”

 

Patrick shook his head, still laughing, before Joe found a particularly good spot, and Patrick began wheezing, tears slipping down his cheeks.

 

“F-fine, haha--I love you, now get him off!”

 

Pete pounced on Joe with a warcry, who yelped and tried to wriggle away, as Patrick tried to get his breath, Andy tugging him into his lap to get him out of Joe and Pete’s way. “Well, this is the most fun we’ve had in ages, so congrats for that,” Andy said in Patrick’s ear.

 

Patrick just leaned back and Andy held his waist carefully, petting his side, “just breathe in, and then out, c’mon, relax.”

 

Joe was laughing still, kicking out at Pete, “lemme go, asshole, I’ll apologize, I swear--”

 

Pete stopped tickling him, but continued straddling him, twisting to grin at Patrick. “You see, my love, I have defended your honor. Do I get a kiss?”

 

Patrick flipped him off, still bright pink, as Andy quirked an eyebrow at Pete, crooking a finger at Pete. “C’mere, and I’ll kiss you instead.”

 

Pete grinned wider and got off Joe, who looked up at pouted at Andy, as he pecked Pete on the cheek, and when Pete went to pull back Patrick huffed and dragged him close, kissing his other cheek, before shoving Pete back, bright pink.

 

Pete grinned at him goofily, touching his cheek. “You love me,” he cooed, batting his eyes at Patrick.

 

“I take it back, I hate you, and I regret knowing you,” he said, and Andy grinned down at Patrick, before Joe pouted and lunged at Andy, laying in his and Patrick’s laps.

 

“You’ll kiss my abuser, but not me? Rude and offensive.” Andy chuckled and tugged Joe up, and kissed Joe softly, as Patrick squirmed, looking away.

 

Pete promptly grabbed Patrick, and tugged him away, and Patrick muttered a thanks.

 

“Anything for you, ‘trick,” he said, and he cuddled Patrick close, dragging him into his lap and making him squeak.

 

When Joe and Andy separated, Joe turned to look at them, “wow. Well, aren’t you two the cutest couple I’ve ever seen--excluding myself and Andy, of course.”

 

“Of course,” Pete said, sounding amused. “So, is this just what we’re going to do until tonight? Or can we watch movies too?”

 

Patrick squirmed, and tried to get out of Pete’s lap. “Whatever we do, I need to get something to eat--if you want to do a movie or whatever, just put something into the TV.” He paused, and muttered, “we can watch it on the bed, it’d be cozier, probably.”

 

Joe grinned at him lazily, flopping back on the bed. “I knew you were a secret cuddle slut. And yeah, let’s do that.”

 

Patrick peeked out from the kitchen, and flipped Joe off, before disappearing back, the sound of plates and pots clinking together as he started cooking.

 

 


	59. Chapter 59

Pete stood, and scratched his hip, going to put in a DVD, and set it up. “What’re you making Patrick? Can we have some?” He said, sounding hopeful.

 

“You don’t know if I can even cook, and no, you can’t. I’m almost out of food--unless you want cereal.”

 

“That sounds good. Is it really sugary?”

 

“You are a child, and I refuse to answer your question.”

 

Joe hopped up, and walked towards the kitchen, “that’s totally a yes, and I’m totally getting myself some awesome cereal.”

 

“As your leader I order you to get me some,” Pete called at him, before getting back on the bed and wriggling close to Andy. “If you don’t I’m going to call dibs on sitting next to Andy during the movie.”

 

“Why would I care? I’m sitting in his lap--you better not take my spot Pete, I already called it!”

 

Pete cackled, and sat himself on Andy, as Joe rushed out of the kitchen, sliding on the wood floors in his socks, and falling into the couch.

 

Andy quickly moved Pete off his lap to go check on Joe, as Patrick looked out from the kitchen. “What happened? Is he okay?”

 

Andy waved him off. “He’s fine. He was just being dumb.” Andy picked Joe up, and carried him back to the bed, and Joe stuck his tongue out at Pete, who spluttered.

 

“Did you do that on purpose?”

 

“You’ll never know,” Joe countered smugly, leaning back against Andy. “Now go get us both our cereal, o’leader mine.”

 

Pete grumbled and joined Patrick in the kitchen, and got out two more bowls, as Patrick looked at him. “Joe tricked you, huh?”

 

“...yeah. When did teenagers get so devious?”

 

“We’ve always been devious, one, and two, don’t say that, you sound like a cranky old man.”

 

“Oh really? Well then, get off my lawn you little shit.”

 

“Only when you tell me why you ruined the economy, grandpa.”

 

That startled a laugh out of Pete, who wrapped an arm around Patrick and nuzzled his neck. “You’re amazing, have I mentioned that recently?”

 

Patrick went bright pink, and stilled, moving into Pete’s touch just a bit. “Shut up, don’t say stupid shit like that.”

 

Pete just settled his hands on Patrick’s hips and pulled him closer, “okay, but only if you give me cereal.”

 

“Seriously? Fine, whatever, get off of me and I’ll make you some. Do you want Cocoa Puffs?”

 

“Ooh, are those the ones that make the chocolate milk? I love those.” Pete pecked Patrick on the cheek, before handing him the other bowls, and hopped on the counter to watch Patrick move around the kitchen.

 

“Hey Patrick?” Pete said after a moment.

 

Patrick hummed, and didn’t look at Pete, “what, Pete?”

 

“Seriously, I love you, and I’m glad you love me too...no homo.”

 

Patrick threw a spoon at him, in response. “I don’t know why I expected any different. Goddammit.”

 

Pete giggled, and let the spoon hit him, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it; Tyler and Josh have it ingrained in my head. Look though, I do mean it. You’re pretty and have a nice voice and I’m glad I’m marrying you.”

 

Patrick huffed, and tried to stop blushing, before he shoved a bowl at Pete, “here, take it to Joe; I’ll bring our bowls in. Please make sure Andy and Joe aren’t making out on my bed when I get back.”

 

Pete saluted him, and wandered back out, tossing the spoon at Joe, who caught it just barely, and made gimme hands at the bowl. “Thank you--and nice one, mood ruiner. You’re never gonna get a proper kiss if you keep that up.”

 

“Perhaps I want to wait until the wedding, did you ever think of that? I’m not that easy, you know.”

 

Joe looked at him disbelievingly and shrugged, before digging into his food, as Patrick came in carrying their bowls, and Pete turned the movie on, grabbing his bowl and tugging Patrick down onto the bed carefully.

 

“You better not spill on my bed, by the way. I’m not sleeping in a wet spot tonight.”

 

Pete and Joe snorted simultaneously, and Patrick shoved them both, annoyed. “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

“Even if you didn’t, the fact remains that if you don’t wanna sleep in a wet spot, you won’t have to. You can share with me tonight, if you want,” Pete offered casually, and Patrick couldn’t help but give him a tiny smile, before he schooled his face, and turned to watch the movie again.

 

 


	60. Chapter 60

They were mostly silent, the only sound in the room being the movie and them eating, and as the day went on Patrick ended up leaning more and more on Pete, and Pete stroked his chest absentmindedly, eyes locked on the screen.

 

It made Patrick sigh, and he closed his eyes, because the feeling was comforting, if not a bit arousing. He squirmed, and Pete spread his legs to give Patrick more room, and pressed just enough so Patrick was leaning back against his chest.

 

When Patrick couldn’t stand it anymore he grabbed Pete’s hand and squeezed, pulling it away from him and dropping it on the bed. In response Pete nuzzled Patrick carefully, and without thinking about it he turned his head just enough to kiss Pete’s collarbone carefully, lightly enough that it could’ve been just a brush of air.

 

Pete grinned down at him, and cuddled closer to him, infinitely more pleased than before. It may not have been an actual, proper kiss, but it was still affection, still Patrick doing it first.

 

“Thanks,” Pete murmured into Patrick’s ear, making him shiver, and go even pinker, before shrugging.

 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he whispered back, but he let Pete tighten his arms around his waist and hug him, both of them smiling as they watched the movie.

 

When it hit around seven o’clock Pete paused the movie, and wriggled out from behind Patrick, to stand and stretch. “Well, the sun’s down, so let’s go do some shit.”

 

Patrick just looked at him, “what do you propose we do? You’re in charge here.”

 

“At least, you claim to be,” Joe chimed in, and he and Patrick high fived. Pete rolled his eyes.

 

“Ha ha, very funny. And I was thinking, we could go out and buy you groceries; it’ll be a fun experience!”

 

“Uh. It’ll be really boring though. Are you sure you don’t want to just watch more movies?”

 

“No, no; we’ll make a night of it! Invite some more people, challenge them to find different things; it’ll be great!”

 

Patrick stared at him blankly, before pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. "Okay, if you say so, Pete. Who do you want to invite?"

 

Pete beamed. "Hmm, maybe Gabe's crew, and Tyler and Josh...I think Brendon and company are doing things tonight, so that's pretty much it!"

 

"And how exactly are we all supposed to go?"

 

Pete waved his hand, "oh, you know, a few cars, and stuff. And c'mon get excited! I haven't ever been to a grocery store."

 

"Oh god," Patrick muttered under his breath, before standing and smiling, a bit strained, "well, let's do this then. Let me make a list of things I need."

 

Pete bounced on his heels and shoved Patrick along, while Joe and Andy watched from the bed, amused.

 

Patrick yelped and dug in his heels, “get off me, dammit. I can walk myself you know.”

 

“You have little legs, and walk slow. This is faster. Now go go go, write your list.”

 

Patrick sat in the chair and wrote a few things down sloppily, before he shoved the list at Pete. “Call whoever so we can leave before the stores close.”

 

Pete shoved the list in his pocket, and pulled out his phone, sending out a quick group text. “Done. Let’s go to the garage and wait now.”

 

 


	61. Chapter 61

Patrick stood, and Pete abruptly picked him up, making him yelp. “Put me down you dick.”

 

Pete shook his head, and unlocked his door. “Nah. You have small, tiny legs. Andy, pick Joe up too--so we match.”

 

Andy shrugged, and scooped Joe up as well, carrying him out of the room. Joe and Patrick gave each other exasperated looks.

 

“I regret knowing you, and wish I wasn’t here right now,” Patrick said loudly, and in response, Pete kissed the top of his head.

 

“I love you too babe.”

 

Patrick shoved against his shoulder and huffed, before looking over at Joe and Andy. “Shouldn’t Joe be carrying you, instead of the other way around? Y’know, because he’s taller?”

 

Andy just looked at him blankly, and Joe looked a bit embarrassed, muttering, “don’t ask dude, seriously.”

 

Patrick’s eyes widened, and he snorted, covering his mouth as he laughed, and Joe gave him a dirty look.

 

When they arrived at the garage, Tyler and Josh were already there, leaning on one of the cars carefully. Gabe and co had yet to arrive, so Pete and Andy kept carrying Patrick and Joe.

 

Josh gave Tyler a speculative look, before picking him up as well.

 

Tyler wrapped his arms around Josh’s neck, and looked at him, and then the other four. “Did you want to feel included Josh?”

 

Josh nodded, and tightened his hold on Tyler. “Yeah. Thought it’d be funny to see the other guys’ faces when they realized we were doing something cool and they weren’t in on the joke.”

 

Pete blinked, before shrugging, making Patrick squeeze his arm in warning. “Fair enough. You two been waiting long?”

 

“Nah, got here right before you did,” Tyler replied, wrapping a strand of Josh’s hair around his pinky.

 

“Good to know. Well, they better get here soon, we need to get there before it closes!”

 

Tyler looked at Pete, tilting his head, “may I ask why you invited us specifically? Because, no offense, but we haven’t really been here that long.”

 

Pete grinned, looking for all the world like a man who had a brilliant idea. “Because, you’re the youngest probably, next to Joe. So you’ve actually been in a grocery store. It’ll make things easier on us.”

 

Patrick groaned and dropped his head back on Pete’s shoulder. “Seriously? That is probably--you know what, I don’t want to waste my breath.”

 

Tyler and Josh gave him concerned looks, but Pete kept grinning, “don’t worry, he loves me, really. He even said so.”

 

Patrick went pink, annoyed. “Only so you would stop Joe from tickling me!”

 

Josh snorted, and smiled, amused. “Sounds like you guys had an interesting day? Tyler and I just slept.”

 

Pete mock leered, “I’m sure that was all you were doing.”

 

Tyler spluttered, and Josh averted his eyes, coughing a bit. “Well, I mean. There might’ve been some cuddling going on; Tyler can’t sleep sometimes.”

 

Tyler buried his head in Josh’s neck and groaned, embarrassed.

 

 


	62. Chapter 62

Thankfully, that was when Gabe came in, and looked at them, “hey, all. Apparently we missed something fun.”

 

“No you didn’t,” Pete countered cheerfully. “The fun’s gonna begin when we get to the store. Now get in the van, you all can follow me.”

 

Tyler raised his hand. “Um. What do you want us to go in? Because I don’t think there’s enough room in the van for us too.”

 

Gabe came over and wrapped his arm around both of them. “If you can’t fit, you can sit on someone’s lap--both of you. Vicky-T can as well.”

 

Victoria raised an eyebrow, “or someone could sit in my lap; Nate, I’m looking at you.”

 

Nate looked at her, betrayed. “Hey! I’m not that much shorter than you. And I’m not sitting in anyone’s laps.”

 

Gabe leered at him. “You sure about that? Because my lap’s always open for you, querido.”

 

Nate huffed, and folded his arms across his chest, refusing to look at any of them. After a pause, Bill spoke. “Well, we have to decide who’s sitting where, or else we’ll never lead.”

 

Gabe waved his hand, “easy--Travie drives, you’re in the front with--Victoria, probably. Then the next row will be me, with Nate in my lap, Ryland and Tyler, Suarez and Josh.”

 

Ryland coughed lightly. “Or, we could do it the even easier way, and Suarez sits in my lap, while Tyler sits in Josh’s. You know, to keep it casual.”

 

Gabe snickered. “Right, _casual_. Wouldn’t it be more casual if you weren’t sitting with people you’re fucking?”

 

Ryland straightened up, and looked offended. “How _dare_  you, sir. I say, how dare you. You have no proof of those claims.”

 

Gabe slowly raised his hand, and pointed at the bruise on Ryland’s neck, and then at the bruises on Tyler and Josh’s necks. “You were saying?”

 

Ryland spluttered, and both Tyler and Josh looked more than a bit embarrassed.

 

Gabe looked smug, and Suarez wrapped his arm around Ryland’s neck, shaking his head thoughtfully. “No, no, I’m pretty sure those are your teeth marks.”

 

Gabe flashed his teeth, and Ryland huffed again, looking towards the sky. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m still here.”

 

Pete knocked on his car hood, “and I’m wondering that right now. Get in your cars so we can leave, we have things to buy, and stuff to do.”

 

Travie inclined his head, and got into the van, Bill and Victoria joining him. “We’re waiting on you all, now.”

 

Pete cheerfully flipped him off, before letting Patrick stand on his own, as did Andy. As soon as Patrick’s feet touched the ground, he punched Pete on the arm. “Don’t do that again, asshole.”

 

Pete gave him an innocent look, “not even when you fall asleep by the time we get home? Well, okay, I guess I’ll just make you walk yourself back.”

 

Patrick gave him a narrowed eyed look, and, to be spiteful, opened the back door of the car and climbed in. Joe stuck his tongue out at Pete, and followed behind, leaving Andy to take the passenger seat. Pete pouted at all of them.

 

“I am hurt, truly.”

 

Andy rolled down his window. “Get in the car, Pete. We can’t leave without you--sadly.”

 

Pete flipped him off, and got in the car, driving fast as Travie’s van followed close behind, as Patrick clutched tight to the assist handle, looking horrified.

 

“Everytime I get into a car with you I regret it. Why do none of you know how to drive properly?” He demanded.

 

Pete took a hand off the wheel, and patted Patrick’s knee, even as Patrick tried to jerk away. “Don’t worry, we’ve all got great reflexes! Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

 

“I’d still appreciate it if you went the speed limit, or, you know, didn’t break multiple laws. Do you even have a driver’s license?”

 

“Who would give one of those to a dead person? And relax, no one is going to pull us over.”

 

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

 

 


	63. Chapter 63

When they finally got to the grocery store, Patrick hurriedly unlocked the car door and stumbled out as soon as the car was in park, looking horrified.

 

“I’m driving on the way home,” he said firmly, as the van pulled up beside him, and everyone piled out.

 

“Do you even have a driver’s license?” Pete asked, smirking at him.

 

Patrick fumbled and pulled out his wallet, before brandishing his license at Pete. “Fuck you, I do. I’m driving on the way home, I called dibs.”

 

Pete rolled his eyes, and pulled the crumpled list, before ripping it in half. “Let’s have a contest. We get these items, you get these, and whoever finds all of them first wins.”

 

Patrick took one half of the list from him, and Gabe gleefully took the other. “Let’s do this shit. Loser has to do something the winners say.”

 

“And what exactly would that be?” Andy asked, looking up at him.

 

“It’s chosen by the winner, duh.” And Andy rolled his eyes, snatching the list from Patrick.

 

“Fair enough; it can’t have to do with alcohol, or drinking blood, got it?”

 

Gabe pressed a hand to his chest, looking offended. “I would _never_ , Andy Hurley. I do have standards you know.”

 

Andy rolled his eyes, “forgive me. Let’s do this; it should hopefully be over in at least fifteen minutes, if we do this properly.”

 

Gabe grinned at him, and quickly he and his group disappeared into the store. Patrick looked at them, and back at their group.

 

“You know we’re going to lose, right? They have us outnumbered.”

 

Pete waved a hand lazily. “Yeah, but it’s unlikely they’ll all split up like we will. The very least they’ll have is groups of two or three. We have the advantage of being small and easy to maneuver. Now let’s go.”

 

They went into the store as well, and Patrick peered at the list, pointing at two of the items. “I’ll get the milk and eggs. You guys can divvy the rest up.” He then went to the back of the store, his mind set.

 

The store was  unsurprisingly empty for that time of night, and so Patrick had no trouble getting his gallon of milk, as well as the eggs. He was debating getting another gallon, and whether he wanted to carry that much, or get a hamper, when he heard someone move behind him.

 

He turned around, to see Tyler, dressed in a different outfit than before, looking at him oddly. He juggled the eggs and the milk, and waved at him. “Hey, dude, you looking for someone, or something? Because I can’t help you, what with this being a competition.”

 

Tyler blinked, and smiled slowly, before shaking his head. “No, thank you. I already know what I’m looking for, and where to find it. You have a nice night.”

 

Patrick blinked, perplexed, as Tyler spun on his heel and loped off, disappearing around a corner.

 


	64. Chapter 64

A few seconds later he heard a shout from another aisle, and he groaned, making sure he had a firm hold on his items before he jogged off in that direction.

 

He found Pete sitting in a cart, with Andy steering it, Joe’s hold on the cart’s side firm. Patrick paused.

 

“Mind telling me what you’re doing? Or why you didn’t split up like you said we should?”

 

Andy looked at him, and shrugged, “would you trust these two alone in a store?”

 

Patrick sighed, and carried his items to the cart, setting them down beside Pete carefully. “Good point--also, Pete, if you break any one of those eggs, I’ll punch you in the dick.”

 

Pete made a face, and deliberately cradled the eggs, so they wouldn’t get smashed. “So, where are we off to now?”

 

Andy checked the list, and shrugged. “We’ve got the cereal; we just need bacon now. And poptarts? And bread.”

 

“Well, that’s awesome. The poptarts are in this aisle too; you grab them, I’ll get the bacon, and then we’ll meet in the bread aisle, okay?”

 

Andy nodded, and looked at Joe. “Go with him, please. It’ll be easier.”

 

Joe frowned, and shook his head. “Not really. Neither of you have _been_  in a grocery store before. How are you going to find anything without me or Patrick?”

 

Pete waved his hand at them imperiously, "there are signs, and we can read. Now hurry up--we need to beat Gabe."

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, grabbing Joe's wrist and pulling him along, muttering to him, "there's no way we're winning. Why did we agree to this again?"

 

"Because Pete's excitement is contagious? And we're whipped. Gabe's probably already won though, truth be told."

 

When they got to the frozen section they spotted Tyler and Josh, who were examining the hamburgers closely.

 

"Hey you two--Tyler, you find what you were looking for earlier?"

 

Tyler startled, and looked up at them, confused. "What're you talking about?"

 

Patrick motioned at the hamburgers, and Josh looked between them.

 

"Uh. When I saw you earlier? You said you were looking for something. I thought you might've gotten split up from the group."

 

Josh frowned, and opened his mouth to speak, but Tyler elbowed him, and nodded at Patrick.

 

"Oh, yeah. I got distracted and separated from the group, and then I heard Josh, so I went to go find him."

 

Tyler smiled at Patrick, and the whole story seemed off to Patrick, but he nodded anyways, smiling back at Tyler.

 

"Right, well, good luck. We're just gonna grab the bacon and go back to our group. See you two soon."

 

Josh waved, and smiled, "yeah, see you. Good luck you two."

 

Joe laughed, said, "yeah, we'll need it," and he and Patrick walked off.

 

 


	65. Chapter 65

As soon as they had though, Tyler clutched at Josh's shoulder, leaning into him and shaking slightly.

 

"Frick," he hissed out through his teeth, "I thought he wasn't here, how did he find us, and oh god, he's still in the store."

 

Josh tugged him close, and shushed him, petting his back. "Shh, it's okay. I doubt anything's going to happen. He would've already showed himself if he was still in here. But maybe we should tell someone--"

 

Tyler pulled back, his eyes wild, "we can't do that. They'll kick us out of the house--Pete'll kill us. I can't--we can deal with this on our own."

 

Josh pulled him back down into his shoulder with a hand on the back of Tyler's neck. "We need to tell someone, Tyler. Patrick talked to him; do you really want to put him in danger like that?"

 

Slowly, Tyler shook his head. "Fine. But it has to be when we get home. I don't want to cause a scene, and if we do get kicked out I want a chance to grab my stuff and say goodbye."

 

Josh nodded, and grabbed at a package of hamburger blindly, and handed it off to Tyler. "C'mon, let's meet up with them and get out of here."

 

Tyler clutched the package like it was a lifeline, and held Josh's hand with his free hand, and they walked back to where they heard Gabe.

 

Tyler was jumpy, kept looking in every aisle and flinching at every sound, and Josh squeezed his hand, trying to keep him grounded.

 

"It's fine," he whispered. "Don't worry, everything's gonna be okay."

 

Tyler nodded, and they were back with Gabe, who was apparently debating over what type of soda to buy. Decision made, he grabbed the coke and put it in the cart, before looking at them.

 

"Hey you two, you find your thing? Good, good. We're totally gonna win this one, let's get up front."

 

They put the package into the cart and followed behind him, and as they were walking they met up with the rest of the group, who were upfront.

 

When they were close to the registers, the other group appeared, and Pete and Gabe locked eyes.

 

"Andy," Pete could be heard saying, "Andy, run, we have to beat them."

 

The two groups broke into a run, and Andy just barely got into the line before Gabe, which made Pete let out a cheer.

 

"Fuck yeah, we won!"

 

Patrick groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking disappointed at the world. And Gabe was pouring behind Andy.

 

"That's not fair, you guys cheated--you had less stuff to get than us!"

 

Pete stuck his tongue, looking pleased. "We didn't; we had the same amount of items, it's just that we're better than you."

 

Gabe flipped him off, and they began unpacking the items onto the conveyor belt, as Pete hopped out of the cart so he could pay.

 

The cashier didn't even mention it; they looked more than ready for closing to happen, and they quickly scanned the items, letting Pete slide his card and load up their carts.

 

When they were finished Patrick gave them a strained smile, "have a nice night."

 

They smiled back and said the same, and Pete dragged him out, to load the cars.

 

Tyler and Josh slowed down, looking at the store again before they were called out, and they followed behind.

 

If they had looked again though, they might've seen a pair of red eyes watching them.

 

 


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains descriptions of stalking, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships and possessiveness, so if any of those things trigger you, be warned. 
> 
> Also yes I know I am a bad person but you didn't think this was going to be an angst free story did you?

When they got back Pete roped them all into carrying the groceries back to Patrick's room, even as he insisted he could bring them back himself, and when they were all put away Tyler and Josh looked at each other, before Tyler stepped up.

 

Pete was talking to Gabe about the bet, waving his arms as Gabe listened, and Tyler hung back to let them finish. It was Gabe who noticed them first, and nudged Pete, who broke off to look at them.

 

"Yeah? Can I help you two?"

 

Tyler rubbed his arm nervously, and glanced at Gabe. "Can we speak to you privately? It's important."

 

Pete eyed them both, and nodded slowly. “We can go to my office. I’ll need to bring Bill in as well though.”

 

Tyler fidgeted, and nodded, and he and Josh fell in step behind Pete, who motioned for them to follow him to his office.

 

When they got there he made them take a seat, “I’ll be back, let me go get Bill. Just stay put.”

 

Tyler nodded, but didn’t look at him, and Josh was too busy staring at Tyler, to see if he was okay, to acknowledge Pete.

 

“It’s gonna be fine Ty, I promise. Pete’s a good guy, and he’ll understand not liking your sire. I mean, him and Bill…”

 

Tyler took a deep breath, and then released it, looking slightly less tense. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just--worried. Sorry, Josh.”

 

Josh grabbed his hand and squeezed, smiling at him, as Bill and Pete walked into the room.

 

“So you two, you have something to tell us? You getting married and need permission?” Bill asked jokingly, taking a seat on the desk to look at them.

 

Tyler shook his head, looking a bit terrified. “We might have a problem.”

 

Bill’s smile dropped, and Pete leaned forward to look at them. “Do you mean you’re in trouble, or all of us are?”

 

Tyler fidgeted in his seat, not looking at them. “I don’t know. It’s just--I think my--our--sire is looking for us. And we don’t have a good relationship, and he likes--really likes--killing people, or anything.”

 

He took a deep breath, and continued. “And I think Patrick talked to him.”

 

Pete’s gaze got sharp. “What? Why do you think that? Did he say something?”

 

Tyler swallowed hard, and Josh squeezed his hand again, answering for him. “He--Our sire, um. He’s almost like--Tyler and him look very similar. Like twins. The only thing different about them is eye color, pretty much.”

 

“And when did Patrick talk to him?”

 

“We think at the grocery store. He asked Tyler if he found what he was looking for. We didn’t want to worry him though, so--”

 

“You mean to tell me that you knew he was there, and you didn’t tell anyone until now?” Pete asked dangerously.

 

Tyler was shaking, hands clenched on the arm of the chair and Josh’s hand, and Josh looked anxious as well, looking between them.

 

“We didn’t see him again--we searched the store and didn’t see him, I swear. I don’t want to put anyone in trouble--that’s why we’re telling you now.”

 

Pete looked ready to yell, and so Bill leaned in front of him, staring at them seriously. “Why don’t you two start at the beginning; how you met him, what you know about him, etcetera.”

 

Tyler nodded, still shaking, and abruptly he pulled away from Josh, licking his lips. “It started with me. I was at my college, and I played basketball there on a scholarship. I was pretty good. And I guess that’s when he first saw me?

 

“But I don’t know. I don’t know how he first noticed me, but he’s--he’s narcissistic. So he saw me, or someone saw me and told him. And then he started stalking me. He was following me home, and had other people following me, after dark. I got paranoid.

 

“I noticed someone was following me, and so I stopped leaving the house after dark. Quit the basketball team, made sure I was with friends, or somewhere safe. I was just always nervous, looking over my shoulder. I didn’t even know what was happening.”

 

He swallowed hard again, and shook his head. “I guess he started lessening up after that? I relaxed more, thinking it was over with. So I got--I got cocky, I guess. I was out walking one night and I was grabbed by some of his men, and knocked out.

 

“When I woke up I was in a bed, and he was standing over me. It was like looking in a mirror.” He laughed shakily. “He was looming over me, and when he saw I was awake he smiled at me, and said it was all over now, that I didn’t have to run. He would protect me.

 

“And then he bit me. On my neck, my wrists, my inner thighs--anywhere he knew there was an artery. I guess he just wanted to make sure it took.”

 

He bit his lip again, and shivered again. “I passed out, after that. And when I woke up, I was like this, and I freaked out. He didn’t like that much, said it was a gift. He was very possessive of me, but when he realized that I wasn’t happy, that I wanted to leave. He had to find a way to make me want to stay.”

 

“And that’s where I come into the picture,” Josh said. “I worked at a music store Tyler liked, and I guess Blurry--the sire, I mean. That’s his name, Blurryface--noticed. And he figured that I would make Tyler happy; or if he felt guilty enough for putting me in the situation he’d stay.

 

“So he grabbed me, and bit me, dropped me on Tyler’s bed. And I woke up to Tyler panicking, because he thought I was dead. And, uh. Blurry was always around, to watch us. Showed me the ropes, but he was really jealous if I was getting more attention from Tyler.”

 

“After a while though, I was fed up. I was nervous and paranoid and hated it there, and I had to get out--and I had to take Josh with me. We were the only ones there who weren’t into the violence, or the killing, and it was getting bad for us.

 

“So we waited until they were out hunting, and we snuck out after picking a lock, and we were on the run for a few months, until we ended up here. And you took us in, and, well. We thought it was over, until tonight.”

 

 


	67. Chapter 67

“And how long were you with him? When were you turned, I mean,” Bill asked, after a long moment of silence.

 

Tyler fidgeted with his sleeves, “I--um. I was there for a year, before he brought Josh in, and together we were there for two or three years. So four years for me in total, I guess.”

 

Pete drummed his fingers on his desk. He had calmed down while they had been talking, thankfully. “And you said his name is Blurryface? Do you know his real name? Because I’ve never heard of anyone named that. He’s in Ohio?”

 

Tyler nodded empathetically. “He was when he grabbed me. I don’t know if he was there before, but he’s in Chicago now. I--I don’t know what he wants. But Patrick said he talked to him, so maybe he knows something?”

 

Pete scowled at the reminder. “If he’s here and knows about Patrick, we need to resolve this matter quickly. I don’t want him getting involved with this mess.”

 

“I think he might already be. Because he thought that he was me, so he probably knows that Patrick knows me. I--I can understand if you want me to leave because of this--”

 

Pete shook his head vehemently. “I wouldn’t kick you out, especially if you are being hunted. Just stay in the house, will you? It’s my job to look out for you, and I’ll make sure no one gets in that doesn’t already live here.”

 

Tyler slumped in relief. “Thank you, so much. I’m really sorry, I didn’t think that he would come after us--I guess I forgot how stubborn he can be.”

 

“Yes, well. Does he have any other distinguishing marks, besides the red eyes?”

 

“He, um. I don’t know if it’s changed, but he’s quite fond of stuff on his neck and hands. Like, usually it was blood, because he liked smearing it on things, but sometimes it was black paint, or something like that.”

 

Pete nodded, and stood. “Right, well. I’ll take care of it. You can both go back to your room. Just remember, don’t leave the house until this is all figured out, and I’ll keep you safe.”

 

Tyler and Josh stood, both looking grateful. “Thank you, so much. I--I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up before, but it--being on the run from him, made me wary.”

 

Pete smiled at them, as did Bill, and then they left. When the door swung shut, Pete took a calming breath, and promptly punched a wall.

 

Bill didn’t even blink. “So, you thought your relationship with me was bad. At least I didn’t stalk you for that long.”

 

Pete didn’t look at him. “Just because you’re better than him doesn’t mean you were a good sire. Just, _fuck_. They should’ve told us sooner.”

 

“Would you have revealed your past trauma to someone you’d only known for a bit?” Bill asked calmly, inspecting his fingernails.

 

Pete bristled, glaring at him. "I would've if it could possibly put people in danger, William."

 

"Now now Peter, there's no need to be rude. I'm just asking if you would tell someone you didn't trust one of your biggest secrets. I can understand why they'd lie about how they met, and how they were turned, if I were in their place."

 

Pete gave him a scathing look. "Yes, well, I bet you would," he snapped. "But they should have told us, because now it's possible we're all in danger, including Patrick."

 

Bill hopped off the desk and smoothed out his pants. "Fine then. I'll get a hold of my contacts, see if I can find anything about this Blurry. No doubt he's with the rebels, and when we know more we can crush him and get them to join in one fell swoop."

 

Pete rubbed his temples, the fight going out of him. “Fine, that’s--good. Let’s do that. Thank you, Bill; but next time, don’t act like they were in the right, hiding this.”

 

Bill shrugged, and went over to hug Pete, smoothing down his shirt in the back. “Yes, well. You make a good leader, but sometimes you need to realize that not everyone is perfect, and they don’t have the same priorities as you.”

 

Pete tensed up a bit, and pulled away, “do you think I don’t know that? Because that fact is getting increasingly clear to me.”

 

“But you were treating them like you’d treat yourself if you did that; they’re still going through issues you mostly solved ages ago, without the same support network you had. And besides that, Tyler has to live with looking at himself everyday and seeing the man who stalked, kidnapped, and tortured him.”

 

He paused, looking at Pete kindly. “I’m not saying what I did to you wasn’t awful, and I’m not saying that what happened to you was insignificant. I fucked up, and I’ve spent quite a few years trying to fix my mistakes. I’m not asking you to forgive me, and I’d understand if you didn’t, but please; try to understand what they’re going through, and don’t lash out at them. They meant no harm, and looked horrified when they realized what might happen.”

 

Pete slowly unwound, and nodded, pulling away from Bill. “I’ll try to remember that. Now get out of here and go search your network; I’ve gotta go see what Patrick knows.”

 

Bill tipped his imaginary hat and left, letting Pete walk out as well before he closed the door. “Good luck with that; I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.”

 

 


	68. Chapter 68

They went their separate ways, as Pete made his way to his room, only to open the door and find that Andy, Joe, and Patrick were there, watching a movie. Patrick waved at him, and yawned.

 

“Hey, Pete. We weren’t sure when you were getting back, so we started without you; sorry.”

 

Pete shook his head, leaning against the door frame. “It’s fine. Actually, I have something to talk to you about Patrick. Can I speak to you privately please?”

 

Patrick frowned, but got off the couch, and walked over to Pete, who pulled him into his room, and shut the door.

 

“Well? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Patrick bit his lip. “Did something happen tonight, with the contract?”

 

“What? No, nothing like that. I’ve just talked to Tyler and Josh though. You said you saw Tyler alone at the grocery store?”

 

Patrick blinked confusedly. “Yes? I asked if he was looking for something, and then mentioned I couldn’t help him anyways, because we were on opposite teams. But he didn’t seem to remember that when I asked him later--or, well, he claimed he remembered, but he was a bit shifty about it. Why?”

 

Pete leaned in, staring into Patrick’s eyes. “This is important; what did Tyler say to you after you said you couldn’t help him?”

 

Patrick’s brow furrowed in thought, and he bit his lip, “he said,” Patrick said slowly, like he was trying to quote directly, “he said he already knew what he was looking for, and where to find it. I thought he meant the food at the time, but.”

 

“But?” Pete prompted, shifting closer.

 

Patrick shook his head. “Like I said, he seemed odd, and when I mentioned it later, he was very shifty. So if he was looking for something, it wasn’t food. And afterwards he told me to have a nice night; like he wasn’t going to see me again. What’s going on? Why did you ask?”

 

Pete pulled away from Patrick, frowning, “Well,” he said slowly, “the person you talked to wasn’t Tyler.”

 

Patrick frowned back at him. “What do you mean? He looked exactly like Tyler, and he looked like--well, not like he recognized me, but like he had some idea of who I was.”

 

Pete frowned at that, taking a step closer to Patrick. “Are you sure about that?” He asked intently, “are you sure that he seemed like he knew about you?”

 

Patrick folded his arms and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe he was a good actor, or something, but he didn’t look surprised when I started talking to him, or whatever. And if he’s not Tyler, who is he then?”

 

Pete ran a hand through his hair, agitated. “Tyler and Josh’s sire. He’s. He’s not going to be a problem, but he’s certainly something that needs to be dealt with. If you ever see him again, tell someone immediately.”

 

“How am I supposed to know if I’m talking to him or Tyler? And I doubt I’m going to see him again; it seemed to be a lucky chance.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t call it lucky,” Pete muttered, before he shook his head, speaking up. “He’s got red eyes, like every cliche vampire you’ve ever heard about, and apparently he favors covering his neck and hands with paint, or something of the like.”

 

Patrick nodded, and let his arms hang loose again. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you know if I see him, but I doubt I will; I don’t get out very often, and all. Now is that all you wanted to talk about? Because we’re missing the movie.”

 

Pete let himself relax, and smiled, before tugging Patrick into a hug. “He had better not show his face around here, and yes, let’s watch the movie together.”

 

Patrick pulled away from him, rolling his eyes, and grabbed Pete’s arm to tow him into the room. “Tyler has the same face, so you might need to think of a better threat.”

 

Pete made a face, and just because he could, pulled Patrick into his lap when they got to the couch, shushing him when he tried to protest.

 

 


	69. Chapter 69

Patrick settled back into him with a sigh, and Joe smirked at him, leaning into Andy as well. After the first thirty minutes though, Patrick’s breath had evened out and he was asleep in Pete’s lap.

 

Pete looked down at him with a dopey smile, which Andy caught, and he nudged Pete companionably.

 

“Seems like the sun’s going to come up soon, so we might as well go to bed now. Do you want me to take Joe back?”

 

Pete looked over at Joe, who also seemed to be dozing, and shook his head slowly. “I mean. My bed’s big enough for all of us? If that’s what you’re asking.”

 

Andy shifted Joe, and nudged him awake, making him groan and look up at him blearily. “Hey, Joe. You want to use this bed, go back to our room,  or share with Pete and Patrick?”

 

“Mm. Share. It’ll be warmer, and Patrick’ll be less confused, probably.”

 

Andy nodded, and looked at Pete, “well, he’s chosen. Joe, can you walk, or d’you want me to carry you?”

 

Joe let out a jaw cracking yawn, and moved closer to Andy. “I can walk, but I wanna be carried.”

 

Pete smiled, and picked Patrick up carefully, as Andy did the same with Joe, and they turned off the television, and the lights, and carried them both into Pete’s room, where Joe curled up under the blankets immediately, spooning up behind Patrick.

 

Pete pouted at that, and took Patrick’s other side, as Andy curled up behind Joe, after he had gotten undressed.

 

“If we do this again,” he said quietly, “we’re going to have to start keeping clothes in here.”

 

Andy quirked an eyebrow at him, and reached over to pat Pete’s shoulder. “Make room in a drawer and we’ll do it, you freak,” he said affectionately. “Now go to bed; we need rest, after tonight’s adventure.”

 

Pete made a face at him, and snuggled closer to Patrick, throwing his arm over him, to touch Joe as well, and closed his eyes, Patrick’s heartbeat helping him drift off into sleep.

  
(And in another section of the house, a less happy cuddle session is taking place; Josh curled up around Tyler, trying to get him to sleep, as Jenna and Debby watched from the other bed, worried.) 


	70. Chapter 70

Pete woke up around noon, yawning and snuggling closer to Patrick as he opened his eyes just enough to look at all of them, feeling smug.

 

As if he had a radar to detect that sort of thing, Andy shifted, and opened his eyes slowly, looking straight at Pete.

 

“What time is it?” He murmured, so as to not disturb Joe and Patrick.

 

Pete turned just enough to view the clock, and dropped his head back on the pillow. “It’s only noon. You can go back to sleep.”

 

“So you can stay up and channel your inner Edward Cullen? No thanks.”

 

Pete, rather childishly, stuck his tongue out at Andy, who promptly ignored him, closing his eyes.

 

“Go back to sleep Pete, or I’ll go over there and cuddle you until you do.”

 

“You wouldn’t leave Joe alone like that, so there.” But even as he said it, he yawned, eyes fluttering shut.

 

Andy snorted, and reached out to grab Pete’s hand, squeezing briefly, but not letting go. “Sleep, Pete. We love you, now go the fuck to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

When Patrick woke up, the first thing he saw was Pete’s sleeping face. The first thing he felt though, was unbearably hot. That probably had to do with the fact that someone (probably Joe) was pressed against his back, while Pete was pressed against his front.

 

He stared blankly at Pete’s face for another moment, before he sighed, and closed his eyes again, dropping his head against Pete’s shoulder.

 

Pete, of course, didn’t even twitch. There was something to be said about someone who barely slept, but when he did sleep it was deep; Patrick, however, didn’t know what it was.

 

He pressed a light kiss against his shoulder, and tried to simultaneously move back against Joe, and against Pete as well.

 

That only made Joe stir against Patrick’s back, and wrap an arm around his waist, bumping against Pete’s hand.

 

Joe grumbled something, and then opened his eyes, “hey, you awake?” He whispered to Patrick.

 

Patrick nodded, and turned his head so he could look at Joe through the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Haven’t been awake long though. Any reason we’re in the middle of a sandwich?”

 

Joe shrugged, “because Pete’s not so secretly a cuddle slut? Maybe he feeds on cuddles instead of blood.”

 

Patrick snorted, and dropped his head back onto the pillow. “Yeah, maybe,” he whispered back. “So, uh. I’ve been wondering; how come if you’re a vampire, you seem to keep the same hours I do?”

 

Joe shrugged again. “I dunno, I’ve only been a vampire for a few months; I guess I’m just getting used to the new hours.”

 

“Huh,” Patrick said, and then he tried to turn around properly to talk to Joe, but Pete tightened his arms and pulled Patrick closer.

 

Joe snorted, and tugged Patrick closer, which only made Pete frown in his sleep. “Joe, stoppit,” Patrick hissed, “I’m gonna get bruises if you keep playing tug of war using me as the rope.”

 

Joe relaxed his hold just a bit, which caused Pete to pull Patrick closer, shoving Patrick’s face into his shoulder.

 

They were both silent for a moment, before Joe started snickering, waking Andy up.

 

“What are you laughing at?” He asked, voice groggy with sleep.

 

Joe pressed back into him, and pointed at Patrick, “Pete got mad that I tried to take Patrick away, even though he’s sleeping.”

 

Andy sat up, and looked down at the three of them, Joe wrapped around him, Pete wrapped around Patrick as Patrick tried to get away. He sighed.

 

“Pete,” he said loudly, “they’re having a sale on guyliner at Hot Topic.”

  
Pete then jolted awake to the sound of Joe’s cackling laughter and Patrick’s struggling against his hold.


	71. Chapter 71

He blinked confusedly, loosening his hold enough so Patrick could pull away, collapsing onto Joe and making him wheeze, still laughing.

 

“What the fuck?” Pete asked, looking at Andy for some sort of clue as to what was going on. Andy, however, was wearing a serene expression, and didn’t say anything.

 

Patrick pointed at Pete accusingly. “You told me that you had never stepped foot in Hot Topic you liar!”

 

Pete made a face, and looked between Patrick and Andy, “what the fuck?” He asked again.

 

“Before, you said that you hadn’t ever been in a Hot Topic. Why would you lie like that?”

 

“I haven’t been in a Hot Topic. What are you talking about?”

 

Andy had a wicked gleam in his eye, and Joe tried to wriggle up, so Patrick was in his lap, rather than crushing his legs. “He’s talking about the fact that you woke up when I mentioned it.”

 

“What? I woke up when I heard someone yell my name. Which, by the way--” he stared at Patrick pointedly, “is a much nicer way to wake someone up than _biting_  them.”

 

Patrick scowled and flipped him off. “You deserved it, and I should’ve done it again. I would’ve, if Andy didn’t wake you up.”

 

Joe nestled his head on Patrick’s shoulder (which made Pete scowl, just a bit), and raised an eyebrow. “Whoa now, what’s this about biting? I didn’t realize we were discussing kinks now.”

 

Patrick went a bright shade of pink, and elbowed Joe in the stomach. “We’re not talking about that, shut up.”

 

Pete grinned, just a bit, because an embarrassed Patrick was an adorable one. “Oh, I think we are. I mean, you bit me, and then started talking about piss.”

 

Patrick jolted forward, like he was going to tackle Pete, or strangle him. “I hate you so much, let me go Joe, I want to kill him.”

 

Joe was cackling in Patrick’s ear, but didn’t let him go, not until Patrick elbowed him again.

 

As soon as Joe _did_ let go though, Patrick lunged at Pete, tackling him and digging his knee into Pete’s dick, making him yowl.

 

“I hate you so much, I regret knowing you.” Patrick said loudly, over the sound of Joe and Andy’s laughter, and Pete’s injured noises.

 

But Pete didn’t have a good sense of self-preservation, and he started laughing helplessly as well, “you know you love it baby, you said so yourself.”

 

Patrick scowled even harder, and finally Andy moved to grab Patrick and tug him off of Pete, even as Patrick kicked out and tried to get back to him.

 

Pete was clutching at his ribs when he sat up, but he was grinning at Patrick, and waggled his finger at him.

 

“Now now, be a good boy and stop trying to grievously injure me. We haven’t even negotiated kinks yet, and you’re a virgin. I think we should save anything like that for after the wedding night.”

 

Patrick scowled even harder, but let Andy keep holding him. “I’m never having sex with you ever, or kissing you. You’re never getting laid ever again,” He said viciously.

 

Pete looked horrified, and made grabby hands at Patrick, so Andy would give him over. “No, no, I’m sorry, please don’t never have sex with me. Sex is great and should be with a person you love--like me, because you said you did.”

 

Patrick huffed, but settled into Pete’s lap, looking annoyed. “I really regret saying that. You’re awful, stop using that against me.”

 

Pete nuzzled Patrick’s neck, making him stiffen just a bit, until Pete pulled away. “You love me, and I love you. And because I love you, I’m not going to make you say it again. You can do it on your own terms.”

 

Joe snickered again, muttering under his breath, “he can do _you_  on his own terms.”

 

Patrick gave Joe a deadpan look. “you’re awful, and I hate you too.”

 

Joe leaned back against Andy, “no you don’t. You wouldn’t have been the little spoon to my big if you did. And you wouldn’t have come to that party the one time.”

 

Pete sits up straighter, looking at Joe. “What party? When was this? Did you two do something?”

 

Patrick huffed and elbowed Pete in the stomach. “It was a party for some of his friends, and we went together, not as a date. It was before he knew Andy, probably, and all we did was hang out together.”

 

“Yeah, until the pot came out.”

 

Andy was radiating disapproval, but didn’t say anything, as Pete’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me that Patrick isn’t as much of a goody two shoes as I thought?”

 

Joe snorted, “no, he is. I got high, and he didn’t want to, which was fine. But he was sitting with me anyways, and he got a contact high. And then he left, without telling anyone.”

 

“I just wanted to check on something, so I left. I thought I told you!”

 

“Check on what, your other friends?” Pete asked, drumming his fingers on Patrick’s thighs.

 

Patrick made a noise of annoyance, and shook his head. “I wanted to see if I could understand a Pink Floyd record while I was high. I couldn’t, and I didn’t like being high. The end, I hate you all.”

 

Pete cracked up, muffling his laughter in Patrick's shoulder as Joe leaned back and cackled.

 

"Oh my god, you never told me that. Holy shit Patrick, I think I love you."

 

Patrick crossed his arms, looking annoyed, although the effect was ruined by Pete's shaking arms wrapped around his waist.


	72. Chapter 72

Andy, however, nodded companionably. "I know what you mean. I hate pot too. Messes up my reaction time." He paused, and added more mischievously, "maybe we're with the wrong people. Run away with me Patrick, we'll leave these stoners behind."

 

Patrick wriggled out of Pete's arms as Pete spluttered, and Andy lightly shoved Joe at Pete, before dragging Patrick forward.

 

"Of course I will. We'll be like--well, not Bonnie and Clyde, but some other two person gang that's on the run."

 

Joe snorted, and leaned against Pete, looking up at him. "They think they can run off easily. How rude. Jokes on them though, they'd miss us."

 

Pete nodded, trying to school his face into a mask of seriousness. "You're damn right. And Andy would miss his comic books, and Patrick would miss his instruments. They'd be screwed without us."

 

"That's your opinion. And who's to say we wouldn't take those things with us?" Andy countered.

 

"Who's to say that we wouldn't bug them and follow you around till you came home?" Joe pouted, and pasted on a convincing mournful look. "You'd just turn me and leave me here, never to see you again?"

 

Andy, almost unwillingly, let go of Patrick, and crawled over to Joe. "You're a brat, but I love you," he said, and then he kissed Joe softly.

 

Patrick turned his head away, not wanting to interrupt the moment, as Pete reached out and grabbed his hand and squeezed, smiling softly.

 

"You'd miss me, admit it."

 

Patrick huffed, and quietly said, "maybe, but I'm blaming stockholm syndrome."

 

Pete beamed down at him dorkily. "You still love me though," he said in a sing song voice, and then he leaned down and kissed Patrick's cheek obnoxiously.

 

Patrick made a face and wiped at his cheek, "gross," he said in a fond, exasperated tone.

 

"With the way you kiss my cheek, I'm unsure if I want you to kiss me any other way, because you kinda suck at it."

 

Pete leered. "That's not the only thing I suck at. But really, I am a great kisser, ask anyone."

 

“...really? You’re really going to have me ask people? Like. You’re saying you’ve kissed Bill?...Wait, that’s a stupid example. Um, Gabe? Travie?...Brendon?”

 

“Yes, to all. I got around, when I was younger.”

 

Patrick’s eyes widened, and he tried not to feel jealous. It showed on his face though, just a little, when he pouted. “Andy? Joe? Victoria?”

 

Pete shrugged. “Yes? We had some wild parties here. And some really childish ones, with spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven. Don’t ask.”

 

Patrick huffed, and folded his arms. “Fine, whatever. You’re a slut, I get it.”

 

“Hey now, don’t be like that. Tell you what, you can tell me about the people you’ve kissed. How’s that?”

 

Patrick went pink again, and squirmed in Pete’s lap. “Let’s not,” he said stiffly. “I’ve only really kissed a few people. Because I’m younger than you.”

 

Pete tried not to feel irrationally jealous as well, and failed. “Oh really? Still though, any kissing is practise, right? Were you dating them?”

 

Patrick shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe two of them. The rest were just at parties, and stuff. Casual. I wasn’t that popular.”

 

“And were any of them guys?” Pete asked, intently.

 

Patrick snorted. “No, of course not. I already told you that, and besides, I wasn’t popular with guys or girls. Or anyone.”

 

Pete frowned. “Are you saying you were bullied?”

 

“No? Or if I was, I never noticed it. But we weren’t talking about that. We were talking about my lack of a sex life. But if you wanna change the topic, I’ll gladly do it.”

 

“No, no.” Pete paused. “So, uh. When did you get your first kiss?”

 

“Okay, no. Let’s not discuss this.”

 

“You brought it up in the first place! I don’t know why I can’t ask.”

 

Patrick huffed. “I was like, fourteen, and it was for a dare. Okay? Okay. Now change the subject.”

 

Pete tried not to feel too disappointed, and cuddled Patrick closer instead. “Well, if you ever need any practice…”

 

“Then I’ll either punch myself until I pass out, or make out with my pillow. I’m not going to cheat on you, or whatever.”

 

Pete blinked, and looked confused. “I was offering my own services, but I mean. You can do that, if you want. The pillow thing, not the cheating on me thing.”

 

Patrick snorted, “thanks. And, uh. Thanks for the offer. But, um. I’m gonna wait, like. Until marriage, I guess. Y'know. So I can wear white--but this doesn't mean I'm wearing a dress.”

 

“What? Why would you want that? We might botch the kiss if we don’t practice.”

 

Patrick was slowly going pink, and Pete could see it spreading down his chest as well.

 

“Well,” he said in a high voice, “that’s interesting, but I think it’s going to be awkward enough already, so we might as well be bad at it.”

 

Pete, sensing awkwardness, backed off immediately. “Yeah, okay, that’s fine. But the offer’s open whenever.”

 

Patrick squirmed off Pete's lap and nodded, smiling a bit tensely, "good, that's. Good. Um, I'm going to go take a shower now. Have fun with the Andy and Joe show."

 

 


	73. Chapter 73

Patrick then left the scene, with Pete looking after him, concerned. Andy and Joe had broken away from each other to watch as well, and Pete turned to them with a frown.

 

"What did I do? He said he loved me, and now he's all nervous and doesn't want to kiss me."

 

Joe patted his shoulder. "You've gotta understand, he didn't know he liked guys until recently, right? So he's probably got questions he's too embarrassed to ask, and kissing in public isn't on his list of things he wants to do. Plus, y'know, he might think kissing a guy is different than kissing a girl. Maybe he thinks you're gonna slip him tongue, but you won't if your first kiss is at the wedding."

 

Pete frowned even harder. "I wouldn't do that, what makes him think I would?"

 

Joe very valiantly didn't roll his eyes, keeping his tone even. "Well, I mean. You're kinda flirty, and if the dress thing is anything to go on, he thinks you're gonna emasculate him. Plus you just said you're a good kisser and you've kissed pretty much everyone here. So, now he's nervous and uncomfortable and thinks if he does kiss you he'll suck and you'll be disappointed, and he'll be disappointed with himself."

 

"Oh," Pete said simply. "How do I make him not think that? Because I don't want him being uncomfortable."

 

"I know you don't. Just let him come to you and ask questions, or find books, or pamphlets, or whatever about same sex relationships, and kissing, and stuff. Help him out with it all, and most of all, if he seems like he's uncomfortable, back down."

 

Pete nodded, and rolled off the bed with a sigh. “I understand. Now both of you, leave--go take showers, or something.” He paused, and added not so sneakily, “and when you come back, make sure you bring some changes of clothes--I have a few dresser drawers calling your names.”

 

Andy rolled his eyes and got dressed, as Joe tugged on his shoes, and then saluted. “You got it, sir. We’ll be back in like an hour.”

 

Pete nodded, and smirked. “You really need an hour to shower and get clothes?”

 

Andy crooked an eyebrow, “no, but we do need an hour so we can fuck. Your sexual tension with Patrick is killing us, and we’ve realized that we can get laid and not feel bad about it.”

 

Pete’s face dropped, and he spluttered inelegantly for a moment. “That’s--you can’t--you’re awful, and I hate you, Hurley. Go fuck yourself.”

 

Andy cheerfully flipped him off, putting on his own shoes and heading to the door. “The whole point of what I said was to imply that I didn’t have to fuck myself. Unlike you, for possibly ever. Bye Pete, see you in an hour.”

 

Pete was still spluttering when Andy and Joe left, and it took a few moments for him to gather himself, and get undressed to shower.

 

He almost thought about jerking off in the shower, just to spite Andy, but then he realized he didn’t want to prove Andy right.

 

It was a disappointing shower, because of that, especially knowing that other people _were_  getting laid.

 

He wouldn’t force Patrick into anything, especially that, and he decided that he’d tone down the flirting, and the touching, if Joe was right about making Patrick uncomfortable, because the last thing he wanted to do was that--embarrassment was fine, discomfort was not.

 

When he got out of the shower, he got dressed, and quickly checked his phone; he had a few messages from Bill, regarding Blurryface, and it made him frown, settling down on his bed to read through what Bill had sent.

 

 


	74. Chapter 74

It admittedly wasn’t much. No one seemed to know about him, or what his real name was--or if they did, they weren’t talking. Bill had managed to scrounge up a picture of him though, and he looked almost exactly like Tyler. The only difference was that Blurry had a cruel cast on his face, unsuited to Tyler, and seemed to hold himself far better than Tyler, taking up more space in consequence.

 

It was nearly uncanny, and it made Pete think over what Tyler said about narcissism, and frown even deeper; god only knew what Tyler had endured the four years he was held.

 

He shook it off, replied to Bill, told him that he was doing good work, and to keep it up. He then got up and went into Patrick’s room, where Patrick was sitting at his desk, still damp from his shower, and Pete couldn’t help but stare.

 

He cleared his throat, and Patrick flushed and quickly shut his laptop, turning around to look at Pete, embarrassed, his shirt sticking to his skin. Pete looked at his face, tried not to look anywhere else, as he walked into the room.

 

“So, what’re you up to?”

 

“Oh, you know, just things.” Patrick said quickly, before cringing at how it sounded.

 

"Things, huh. Like music, or?"

 

Patrick, seeing his chance, jumped on it. He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, definitely. Looking up music to read, and download, and stuff. You know, just musician things."

 

Pete didn't comment on it, instead hopping up on the desk to look at Patrick.

 

"I think it's time we had a talk," he said awkwardly, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

 

Patrick looked up at him, before biting his lip. "Okay? Uh, what do you wanna talk about?"

 

Pete took a deep breath, and released it. "We need to discuss, before the wedding, what you are and aren't comfortable with doing. That means things as small as handholding or sitting on each other's laps, to kissing and sex."

 

Patrick squirmed, feeling the bottom drop out of his stomach. "Oh," he said in a tiny, quiet voice.

 

Pete tried to smile reassuringly at him. "Hey, no, it's not that bad. We're just setting boundaries and all. Like, you said you didn't want to kiss before marriage, and that's fine. But are you okay with me pulling you into my lap, or being affectionate?"

 

Patrick relaxed slowly, and nodded, "um. Yeah, I guess that's okay. But if I tell you to let me go, could you do that please?"

 

"Of course I can. I'm sorry if I wasn't before. Um, now, we should probably discuss the wedding. It's going to have to be big, because we have to invite the human leaders, and everyone in the house. Is there anyone you want showing up?"

 

Patrick shrugged, "I think I'm good. And, uh, I do need to be fitted for a tuxedo I guess, unless it's going to be casual."

 

"Oh it is. Everyone in flip flops and socks, and you in a lovely sundress. It's gonna be great."

 

That got a smile out of Patrick, and he laughed just a bit, punching Pete's arm. "Asshole."

 

Pete grinned back at Patrick. “Your asshole,” he countered, before seeming to think what he said over, and shrug. “Whatever. The point is, we’re going to move this wedding along, so later on I’ll have someone come over and fit us both.”

 

He paused then, to gather his thoughts. “But, uh. We do need to discuss the wedding _night_  as well.”

 

Patrick went back to blushing, and didn’t look at Pete, “what about it?” He asked stiffly.

 

“Well, uh. I know you said you didn’t want to kiss until marriage, which is fine, but we do need to think about if you’re comfortable with the thought of sex. I don’t want to pressure you into anything, and I also don’t want you to feel like you have to do something you may not know anything about.”

 

Patrick fidgeted, playing with the bottom of his t-shirt absently. “I--um. So, like. You have, uh. Lube, right? For the thing.”

 

Pete blinked, and nodded slowly. “Yes? Lube’s the only thing to use when you’re fingering someone. Spit dries out, and it’s not that comfortable.”

 

“You sound like you know from experience,” Patrick muttered, before raising his voice. “Um. That’s good. So, uh. How many fingers? And, uh. Condoms.”

 

“Well, two’s usually fine,” Pete said slowly, watching Patrick carefully, “but I prefer to use three, to be safe. And yes, I do use condoms, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“Uh. That’s good, thanks. And, um. Do you prefer to top? And, uh.” He trailed off into a mumble, looking down.

 

“Usually, yes. It’s nice, and I like making my partner feel good. Look, Patrick--we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. And I don’t even have to touch you if that’s what you want. I’d be fine with you not wanting to have sex.”

 

“No! I mean--no. I’m okay, with sex. I just, don’t know much about it? And, um. Porn doesn’t look very realistic. I just, don’t know what to do?”

 

“And that’s fine. If you want, I can get you some actually realistic porn. And, if you want, some uh. Toys? And lube. I mean, you’re an adult now, so it’s not like. Um.” He waved his hands vaguely.

 

Patrick’s blush got deeper. “Are you saying you want to use toys on me?” He asked, voice cracking.

 

“What? No! I mean, well--no. These would be for you, to help you get comfortable with uh. This all. But don’t feel pressured into it--I just want you to feel comfortable.” He paused, and then said, in a quieter voice. “Patrick, I mean it--we don’t have to have sex until you’re ready, and I don’t care if it takes years, or it never happens. Your comfort is more important than anything else.”

 

Patrick shuffled his feet, “thank you. And, um. Maybe you’re right? I just--could you give me some lube, please? You know, just to have, in case I’m um. Curious?”

 

Pete nodded quickly, and hopped off the desk, going to his room and coming back with an unopened bottle, which he pressed into Patrick’s hands. “Here--you can keep this. You can choose what to do with it, or whatever.”

 

Patrick took it from him with a muttered thank you, and then, with nothing else to do, slid it in a desk drawer. “Um, so. Is that it? Or did you want to talk about anything else?”

 

 


	75. Chapter 75

Pete shook his head, and remained standing. “No, um. That’s pretty much it. Joe and Andy are coming back in a bit though, to watch movies, and I do have some work to get done later, but it can wait. Have you eaten yet?”

 

Patrick blinked at the sudden change in subject, and shook his head. “Not yet. I was um. Just on my computer, doing stuff, when you came in.”

 

“You mean you were looking at music?”

 

“Yeah, that.” He paused, and then muttered, in a rush, “and also maybe looking at porn.”

 

Pete let out a loud laugh, and grinned at Patrick, ruffling his hair and making Patrick yelp. “You have fun with that, but make sure you turn it off when Andy and Joe come in.”

 

Patrick kicked his shin, finally looking up at him, “you’re awful. And I wasn’t using it to--to get off, or anything. It was research.”

 

Pete didn’t even try to stop himself from laughing. “Sure, of course. I don’t usually ‘research’ at this time of day, but if that’s what you want…”

 

“I wasn’t jerking off!” Patrick said loudly. And, because his life was a cliche, that was when Andy and Joe came in, and stared at them.

 

“Um. Are we interrupting something? We can leave if you want.”

 

Pete let out another wheezy laugh, and sat down hard on the desk, unable to control himself, and leaving Patrick to defend himself.

 

“No! I wasn’t--nothing was happening, we were just talking. You can come in, I swear.”

 

Andy and Joe took a few more steps into the room, before Andy sighed and went over to Pete, and flicked his forehead. “Relax,” he said, as Patrick stood and moved out of his way.

 

“I’m done with him, you deal with it. I’m going to go turn the movie on now,” he said loudly, trying to make Pete chill out.

 

Andy just stared at Pete until he calmed down, and when he did, dragged Pete up to take him to the couch, where Patrick and Joe were already sitting.

 

When he went to sit by Patrick though, Joe blocked him, shaking his head. “Nope, sorry, only people who don’t mock him get to sit next to Patrick.”

 

Pete’s face dropped into a pout almost immediately. “That’s not fair. You’ve mocked him too! I demand to sit next to Patrick.”

 

“Demand all you want, it’s not happening. I called dibs and you can suck it.”

 

“I already do though, but not to you,” Pete said, and Joe just gave him a funny look.

 

“You know that made no sense, right?”

 

Pete scowled, and flipped him off. “Shut up, it does too. Let me sit by Patrick or I’ll sit on you.”

 

Joe gave him a considering look. “Well, I mean, you’re certainly small enough to do that, so go ahead.”

 

Andy just gave Pete a warning look. “You can spend a few hours not clinging to Patrick, now sit down.”

 

Pete did sit down; but, out of spite, he chose to sit in Joe’s lap.

 

Andy stared him down, but Pete refused to move, grinning up at him smugly.

 

“You told me to sit down, so I did. Not my fault you weren’t specific.”

 

Joe wrapped his arms around Pete’s waist, and dropped his chin on Pete’s shoulder, looking up at Andy.

 

“Just sit down dude--Pete’s fat ass can’t crush me.”

 

Pete spluttered out a denial, and Andy finally dropped the serious look, before sitting inbetween Joe and Patrick, as revenge. He wrapped his arm around both Patrick and Joe’s shoulders, and sat back, letting Patrick turn the movie on.

 

Pete shoved at Andy’s shoulder insistently. “Move,” he hissed. “I wanna sit by Patrick.”

 

“We all want to sit by Patrick, but Patrick doesn’t want to sit by you. And I don’t want you sitting in Joe’s lap, so this is how I solve the problem.”

 

“You don’t want me sitting here because this is usually your spot, isn’t it? Guess we know who wears the pants in the relationship.”

 

Andy didn’t even bother turning to look at him. “It’s both of us, because unlike you, neither of us is particularly fond of wearing feminine clothes.”

 

Patrick and Joe erupted into snickers, as Pete glared and punched Andy in the arm, hard. “You’re an asshole, and these pants are awesome, don’t judge. You’re just jealous that you can’t get into them.”

 

“Why would I want to get into them? I have pants, and I’m already dating someone. I don’t need to get in your pants.

 

“Besides,” he added slyly, “there’s only one person you want in your pants.”

 

Patrick went crimson, and Pete started spluttering, as Joe muffled his laughter into Pete’s shoulder.

 

“What’s so funny? I was talking about how you didn’t want to let anyone wear your pants except you. I don’t see why you’re embarrassed.”

 

Patrick punched him in the arm, pulling away from him. "I hate you, shut up, we're watching a movie."

 

 

 


	76. Chapter 76

Joe peered over at him, "yeah, but we don't have to be. We've watched movies for a while now. Why don't we, y'know, just jam, or something."

 

"Well, I mean--we'd have to leave for that wouldn't we? Because I only have a few guitars and my set."

 

Andy stood, finally, and went to his kit to inspect it, as Joe shoved Pete inbetween himself and Patrick.

 

"Well, I could go grab my guitar and a bass, or something--if you let Andy play your kit--"

 

"And then you could play your guitar and sing. Voila, we have a band. What do you think?"

 

Patrick fidgeted immediately, "I mean, can't we just--do I have to sing? I'm not that good."

 

Pete flopped into his lap, looking up at him incredulously, "are you kidding? You have the voice of an angel--Joe, tell him he has the voice of an angel."

 

"I'd love to dude, but I've never heard him sing. No except you has."

 

Pete frowned, and grabbed Patrick's hand to squeeze it. "You need to show them how good you are--please, for me?" He pouted ridiculously at Patrick, pressing his mouth to Patrick's hand to kiss it.

 

Patrick flushed, but didn’t pull his hand away from Pete. “Fine, okay. But you can’t blame me if my voice ruins your ears, or something.”

 

Pete cheered, and scrambled out of Patrick’s lap to tug him up. “You’re not going to ruin anyone’s ears, except if you’re talking about making them regret listening to any other music, ever.”

 

Patrick shoved him, “don’t mock me, asshole,” nevertheless though, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and started singing the first song that popped into his head; Billie Jean.

 

Pete was obviously enraptured, and Andy and Joe listened intently as well, Pete looking over at them and back at Patrick proudly.

 

When Patrick had finished it was all Pete could do to not burst into applause; instead he looked at Joe and Andy, who looked more than pleased.

 

"Dude, you should've told me you could sing back when I was trying to put together a band. That was great."

 

Patrick smiled shyly, and Andy nodded his approval as well. "Got a better voice than any band I was in previously. Seriously, good job."

 

"Yeah, well. Thanks for the compliments. Um, if you wanna go grab the other instruments we could jam now?"

 

Joe nodded, and grabbed Pete's arm. "Let's go lover boy. You need to grab your bass. You two gonna be okay waiting?"

 

Patrick nodded, glancing at Andy. "Yeah. He probably wants to check out my kit anyways. Right?"

 

"Right. You've got a good setup, I wanna see what I can do with it while you two are grabbing your gear." He paused, looking over at Patrick. "Do you want me to grab my own drumsticks from my room?"

 

"If you don't mind," he said, and Andy nodded, leaving Patrick alone in the room to wait.

 

Patrick grabbed his guitar to tune it, half paying attention to the door as he did; the door wasn't locked, nor was Pete's door, and it made him just a bit nervous.

 

When he got it successfully tuned he set his guitar aside and wandered over to his drum kit to relieve some of his stress, and about half way through a song there was a knock on the door.

 

He startled, and gripped his drum sticks a bit harder as he moved to stand, looking at the doorway cautiously. "Hello? Pete, if it's you, you don't have to knock."

 

 


	77. Chapter 77

There was a pause, and Patrick was nearly holding his breath as Tyler peeked into the room. That didn't make him feel any better, even if Tyler's eyes were definitely brown.

 

"Tyler? What are you doing up?" He clutched his drumsticks protectively, and Tyler smiled nervously.

 

"Um, I was looking for Pete? Sorry for bothering you, but I thought he might be in here."

 

Patrick relaxed just a bit, and nodded slightly. "He'll be back in a few minutes. What do you need?"

 

"Oh, um." He shuffled his feet, still staying outside the room. "I wanted to know if Pete needed more information on a--a thing."

 

"You know, if you want you can come in and wait for him."

 

Tyler nodded and stepped inside almost hesitantly, sitting on the desk as he looked at Patrick.

 

"So, where's Josh? Usually you two are never apart."

 

Tyler shrugged, hunching in on himself. "He's sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him. I have some information that I don't really want him knowing about."

 

Patrick frowned slightly, “hey, so. Is this about uh. Blurryface?”

 

Tyler startled, and looked up at him. “Um. Yes. Did Pete tell you?”

 

“Not that much, just that he looked like you. Is everything okay?”

 

Tyler nodded, and looked down at his hands, “yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s just some information that I remembered because I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

 

Patrick went to ask more, but Pete, Andy, and Joe walked in, pausing at the sight of Tyler. “Can I help you?” Pete asked, his tone cool.

 

Tyler jumped off the desk, and stared at Pete, wide eyed. “Um, yes? I have some info I thought you might want--”

 

“And it couldn’t wait until night? Because I’m a bit busy--”

 

Tyler nodded, and bit his lip. “Oh, well, in that case, I’ll swing by your office tonight if that’s okay?”

 

“That’s fine, although speaking to Bill would be better, for both of us. He’s doing the research on the...problem.”

 

Tyler nodded again, and sidestepped them to get out of the room. “Okay, so I’ll go see Bill when he’s awake. Sorry to bother you all--bye Patrick.”

 

Patrick waved back, and Tyler left the room quickly, looking like a dog with his proverbial tail between his legs.

 

Pete was back to smiling when Tyler left, and Patrick frowned at him, folding his arms across his chest. “What was that?”

 

“What? It was nothing. Bill’s taking care of it. Let’s do this shit.”

 

“You were kind of a dick dude. What did he do to you?”

 

“He didn’t give us some vital information when he should have, and now a problem has occurred because of it. It’ll be fine, I swear.”

 

When Patrick’s face didn’t stop looking disapproving, he sighed, “and I’ll apologize to him later, I swear. Can we jam now?”

 

Patrick nodded, and dropped his sticks on the desk, to go grab his guitar. "Yeah, let's do this shit."

 

Pete beamed at Patrick, and went to wrap him in a side hug and kiss the top of his hat, as Joe tuned his guitar and Andy sat behind the kit.

 

They then proceeded to rock the fuck out.

 

That’s not to say there weren’t a few mishaps--Patrick wasn’t used to singing, and Pete’s bass playing wasn’t that great--but altogether, they were good together.

 

 


	78. Chapter 78

Tyler, meanwhile, was wandering through the house; he didn’t want to go back to bed, because he might wake Josh, Jenna, and Debby up, and he wasn’t tired in the first place.

 

He went to the kitchen instead, and, after a moment of hesitation, grabbed a bottle of coconut water; blood was associated with bad memories, and he didn’t like the taste of it in the first place.

 

He sat at the table, legs crossed underneath him as he stared blankly down at it, fiddling with the cap, before he finally opened it, and took a sip. He startled when he heard a cough, and nearly spilled the bottle, glancing up at who was in the doorway.

 

Bill was looking at him, his legs crossed as he leaned against the doorway. “Heard you might need to talk to me?”

 

Tyler nodded, and gestured for him to take a seat. “Yeah, actually. Uh. I might have some info you may not already know?”

 

Bill took a seat across from him, and looked attentive. “Okay? What exactly is it you know.”

 

Tyler fidgeted with his hoodie strings for a moment, trying to relax, before he nodded to himself. “Right, um. His real name isn’t Blurryface, obviously. It’s um. Drake. I don’t know his last name, but he’s from England originally? Like, I dunno. Mid-Dark Ages, maybe? He got here on boat. Came with the early settlers or something? He wasn’t really clear about that.”

 

Bill nodded for him to continue, and after a quick sip of the water, he did. “Right, well. Um, he was in Ohio for a long time. It may’ve been just corn and more corn, but he liked it well enough. It was easy to pick people off, I guess.

 

“I think he left Ohio because he was looking for me. I don’t know how he found me, though. Um. I’m not anyone’s sire though, so maybe it’s something to do with that? I swear I didn’t want him to--to find me, or anything.”

 

He paused, and said in a rush, “Please don’t give me back to him--I’ll help in any way to get him to back off, but please don’t. I know you might be thinking about it, but it probably wouldn’t do anything, except make him pissed at me for leaving in the first place.”

 

Bill studied his face for a moment, "we're not going to do that. You're under our protection. Now, tell me more about him."

 

Tyler licked his lips and nodded, looking relieved. "Right, okay. He's uh, very big on the whole 'not working with people' thing."

 

"So he's probably not working with the rebels, then."

 

Tyler shook his head. "No, I mean. He doesn't work with people, he works over them. If he's decided to show himself already, that probably means he's got an in. He's probably trying to take over, or already has taken over, the rebels."

 

Bill scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking ill at ease. "Well that's lovely. I'll be sure to ask my men about it. Anything else?"

 

“Um. He’s very efficient at manipulating people, so it might be best to, uh, make sure your men know that.” He bit his lip again, taking a deep breath.

 

“He’s also very violent if he doesn’t get his way. Or if he’s trying to get information. Or if he’s bored. So, watch out for that, because if he takes over, you’ll have a lot of problems on your hands.”

 

“And you said he might be tracking you?”

  
“Probably. But that might just be a fun side effect of, like, taking over Chicago. More power means more things to eat, and all.” He paused again, before, “do you believe that some vampires are more supernaturally inclined than others?”


	79. Chapter 79

Bill narrowed his eyes, and tapped his fingers on the table. “Well,” he said slowly, “it is very possible. Why do you ask?”

 

“Because Blurry--he, uh. He can get in your head. Like, his voice. Can make people do things.”

 

“Are you sure it was him? I mean, it seems that you two have similar voices.”

 

“No, no, it was him. He used to um. Used to, like. Show off, with that. If someone disappointed him, or disobeyed, he’d make them do things to themselves. Like, injure themselves, or other things.”

 

“And you know this from experience? Or just from watching?”

 

Tyler fiddled with his sleeves and didn’t answer.

 

Bill sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Right then. You don’t have to answer. But to answer your question, yes, some vampires can have powers. It’s very rare that a vampire has a power though. For instance, I can disappear if I want. Brendon can control people with his voice, if he wanted. Things like that. Is that what you wanted to know?”

 

Tyler nodded, and clasped his hands together. “Yes, thank you. So, just--just watch out for that.”

 

“I will. Do you know if he can do anything besides control people? How long is his range?”

 

“I--I don’t know. Maybe he needs to see people to do it, maybe not. I don’t know, sorry.”

 

“Well, thank you for the information. Is there anything else you need to tell me? Something you don’t want anyone else to know? I’ll keep your secret, promise.”

 

Tyler hesitated, and then, in a rush, “I think--maybe that he found me because we’re linked, or something. Like, he’s not in my head, but--he found me, like this. And--and, it might be a thing, because he’s my sire? But I don’t think anyone else has it. Is it a thing between you and Pete?”

 

“No, it’s not. So you’re saying you can what, hear him? He can hear things through you? Do you think you’re a danger to us because of it?”

 

“It’s possible. I don’t know. I--I can understand, if you want to kick me out, really--I’ll leave, get out of town, but don’t give me to him--and keep Josh safe, please.”

 

Bill reached out and grabbed Tyler’s hand, and squeezed. “I already said we wouldn’t, and that we’d protect you. That isn’t going to change now that we know that. I’m not going to tell anyone, either.”

 

He sighed, and let go of Tyler’s hand. “Tell me, if you think he’s in your head, okay? And maybe we can work something out. I’ll see if any of my guys know anyone who can shield people’s minds. That’ll solve the problem until we get rid of Blurry.”

 

Bill stood, and patted Tyler’s shoulder before yawning, and scratching his side through his sleep shirt. “And now, you should go back to bed. I’ll take care of it. And your roommates are probably worried. See you later tonight, Tyler.”

 

Tyler nodded, and screwed the cap back on his drink. “Thank you, Bill. You’re a good guy. I’ll let you know if I know anything else.”

 

Bill smiled kindly at Tyler and nodded, and left, and Tyler left as well, headed back to bed.

 

Bill, however, was still very much awake, and had already composed a list of things to tell Pete, and was on his way.

 

 


	80. Chapter 80

He headed towards Pete’s room, and got in without knocking. Pete was nuzzling Patrick’s neck as they played, and Bill let them finish, before he interrupted.

 

“You guys play well together.” He said. “And I hate to interrupt, but I have to talk to Pete.”

 

“Can it wait? We’re in the middle of something.”

 

Bill shook his head. “I’m afraid not. This information is definitely worth your while though.”

 

Pete exhaled sharply, but set his bass aside. “I’ll be back in a few. Keep playing without me.”

 

They didn’t protest, and watched quietly as Bill and Pete left the room, Pete leading. They were quiet until they got to Pete’s office, and he locked the door securely behind them, before turning to face Bill.

 

“Well? What’s so important that you needed to pull me away from them?”

 

Bill took a seat, and folded his hands in his lap, looking remarkably elegant for someone in an overlarge cobra shirt and Dracula sleep pants.

 

“I talked to Tyler, and he’s told me some interesting things.” When Pete motioned for him to continue, he did. “He said that Blurry is possibly even older than I am, which is interesting enough; but he’s also got a power. Not like mine, or yours though. He can get in people’s heads and control them.”

 

“Great, just fantastic. Any other good news for me?”

 

“Calm down, there is something good that comes out of this; Tyler’s got some kind of connection with him. Maybe it’s because Blurry sired him, maybe it’s because they look like twins. But whatever it is doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can use it.”

 

“Oh really? And how are we supposed to use this? Do we sit him down and ask him politely to tell us what Blurry’s doing?”

 

Bill rolled his eyes, his voice exceedingly patient. “He doesn’t know I’m telling you. And if Blurry knows he can get in Tyler’s head, we feed him false information, easy. We keep Tyler in the dark about what’s going on, except for what we want him to know. And if that doesn’t work, well. We know what Blurry wants. We could use that as bait.”

 

“Uh huh. And does he know about this plan?” Pete looked disbelieving, sitting at his desk and staring at Bill.

 

“Well, no. Obviously not. We don’t want Blurry finding out, after all. He’d be on board with it, if he knew though. His only concession was that we keep Josh safe, which is easy enough.” He paused, continuing thoughtfully. “And if that doesn’t work either, we make a treaty with him. Like your thing with Patrick.”

 

“You want me to make a treaty with this guy, and promise him he can have Tyler back? Fuck, Bill, weren’t you the one who told me to be nice to him and Josh? And now you’re all for giving him away like a present?”

 

Bill shrugged. “Well, if it protects my interests, and gets the rebels on our side, why wouldn’t I want that?”

 

Pete shook his head in disbelief. “You’re still an asshole, you know that?”

 

Bill continued inspecting his fingernails. “Look, Pete, you don’t get to how old I am without making a few sacrifices. And it’s not like you like Tyler in the first place.”

 

He leaned forward, locking eyes with Pete. “Think about it. It’ll get him away from Chicago; away from Patrick. He’d forget all about him, which is what you want, isn’t it?”

 

Pete bit his lip, and ran a hand through his hand before nodding slowly. “You’re right. But that’s our last resort, got it?”

 

Bill nodded and smiled at Pete willingly. “Got it. And I’ve taken up enough of your time, so I’ll let you go back to Patrick. I’m going back to bed. See you tonight Pete.”

 

Pete nodded, and watched Bill slip out of the room mutely, before shaking his head and going back to his own room.

 

If he was a bit more distant, his laughter seemed more forced, no one mentioned it.

 

 


	81. Chapter 81

When Tyler finally made it back to his room, the beds were shoved together, and Josh, Jenna, and Debby were all piled together. Jenna stirred when he closed the door, and looked up at him sleepily.

 

“Where have you been?” She murmured, and he toed off his shoes, and shrugged.

 

“Bathroom,” he whispered back, and he slipped into bed beside her and Josh.

 

She let him move until she was spooning him, and nuzzled his shoulder. “Mm, night baby. Sleep well.”

 

“Sleep well,” he whispered back, and he closed his eyes, feeling safe from Bill’s reassurances.

 

* * *

 

By the time it was nearing eight, they had finished jamming and moved on to different things; Joe and Pete were playing video games, while Andy watched and commentated, and Patrick was sitting cross legged on the floor next to them, half listening and watching them play, half paying attention to what was on his laptop screen.

 

Finally though, Pete paused the game and nudged Patrick with his foot, making him startle and look up at him. “Yeah? What is it?”

 

“We’ve got an appointment to get fitted for our wedding clothes. Well, I say fitted, it’s more like them taking our measurements and seeing what would look best on us. C’mon, up you get.”

 

Patrick saved his work and closed his laptop, looking regretful, before Pete hauled him to his feet. Andy, meanwhile, had grabbed Pete’s abandoned controller, and had unpaused the game.

 

“So are you two just going to stay here and play games?”

 

Joe didn’t look away from the screen, “yeah, why not? It’s not like we’re going to snoop around. You’ll be back in like, an hour, anyways.”

 

Pete rolled his eyes, “fine, whatever.” His voice deepened, “we’ll be back,” and then he snickered, ruining the effect.

 

Patrick punched him in the shoulder. “Stop being an asshole and lead me to wherever we’re going.”

 

When Pete’s face changed to a look of contemplation, Patrick backed up a few steps. “I said lead me. If you try and pick me up, I’ll bite the shit out of you.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, keep your kinky sex talk in the bedroom, you two.” Joe said, viciously beating down Andy’s character.

 

Patrick flushed, but replied in a remarkably even tone, “this _is_ the bedroom. You’re the one who can just leave if you don’t want to listen to it.”

 

“Weren’t you two just leaving? Get out of here, before you’re late to your appointment. You know how pissy Ryan and Spencer get when people are late.”

 

Pete nodded, and grabbed Patrick’s hand. “He’s right, you know. And unless you really do want to wear a dress on our wedding day, we need to leave, now.” He paused, “unless. We could probably hang out here for a little while longer…”

 

Patrick kept a tight hold on Pete’s hand, and proceeded to drag him out of the room. When they were finally out of the room though, Patrick dropped Pete’s hand. “Right, so, where are we going?”

 

Pete started walking, and Patrick had to lengthen his strides to catch up. “We’re headed upstairs; that’s where Ryan and Spencer’s rooms are, and that’s where they prefer to work.”

 

Patrick blinked. “And we couldn’t go at an earlier time because…?”

 

“He had a lot of backlog orders. Bill has a thing for suits from when he was a Dandy, so it takes up a lot of Ryan’s time. It doesn’t help that Gabe keeps trying to convince him to use faux snakeskin--don’t ask.”

 

Patrick opened his mouth, then shook his head and closed it. “Okay, sure.”

 

As they walked, more than a few vampires peeked out of their rooms to watch them as they walked past, and Patrick reached out to grab Pete’s hand, staying close. Pete nearly beamed.

 

When they passed one door, it swung open and Gabe leaned out to leer at both of them. “Hey you two, you taking a romantic walk together? How cute.”

 

Pete rolled his eyes, and stopped, halting Patrick with him. “We’re headed to see Ryan and Spence, not take a romantic walk.”

 

Gabe snorted. “Good idea. Be warned though, I heard that Brendon had gone up there to see Spencer, and I didn’t see him come back.”

 

“Did you hear any screaming?”

 

“Nah, but I have heard some muffled thumps. Maybe they’re fighting and throwing things, maybe they’re fucking. Who knows, at this point.”

 

Patrick looked between them. “Uh. Is everything okay?”

 

“It will be. Brendon and Ryan don’t really get along anymore. It’s fine though, they don’t interact much, and when they do, Spencer can usually keep them on track. Still, if we hurry we might be able to see a cat fight. Bye Gabe.”

 

Gabe waved, and as they passed Patrick could make out at least five people in an overlarge bed in Gabe’s room. He decided he didn’t want to know.

 

 


	82. Chapter 82

As they got closer to what Patrick presumed was Ryan and Spencer’s rooms, there was the distinct sound of yelling. Pete didn’t slow down though, and the sound got louder and louder, until they reached the door at the end of the hall, and Pete knocked twice.

 

“Open up, we’re here for our appointment, and you all having angry sex isn’t about to stop us.”

 

Patrick elbowed him, hissed a ‘shut up,’ even as the door opened, and Brendon stood there, looking at them.

 

“We weren’t having angry sex. And hi, Pete. Patrick. Very nice to see you again.”

 

Patrick nodded at him, and Brendon was promptly shoved out of the way by a guy who had some wicked looking makeup on.

 

“Hey, Pete. You finally here for your appointment? Get in here.”

 

“Well, I didn’t want to interrupt you and Brendon’s argument. It sounded very important.”

 

Someone peered up at them from over a magazine he was reading on the couch. “It wasn’t. They were arguing over custody of me again. By the way, Patrick, I’m Spencer, and he’s Ryan. Nice to meet you.”

 

“Nice to meet you. You have a very nice room?”

 

It was, admittedly, a nice room. Or would be, if it wasn’t covered in an assortment of instruments, makeup, and dressforms. Spencer snorted.

 

“Thanks. Jon’s around here somewhere, if you haven’t met him already.” Spencer stood, and dropped the magazine. “Bren, if you wanna stick around you can, but you have to stay on the couch.”

 

“He can’t stick around. He’ll distract us from our work.”

 

“He’ll be quiet, won’t you Brendon? And it's not like we haven’t worked with worse distractions. C’mon in. Ryan, you can do Pete. I’ll take Patrick.”

 

Patrick took a step closer to Spencer as Brendon flopped on the couch to watch them all. When Spencer asked, he tossed him the measuring tape, and when Ryan asked, he was promptly ignored, which meant Spencer had to hand his over and get another from Brendon.

 

“Right, this’ll only take a few minutes. I’m not going to touch you inappropriately, this is just for measurements. If you feel uncomfortable in any way just let me go.” Spencer said, and then he squinted slightly at Patrick’s loose jeans, and hesitated.

 

Ryan had no such hesitations. “Both of you get undressed down to your boxers and shirts. We can’t get a proper measurement if you’re still wearing jeans.”

 

Patrick nearly squeaked, while Pete just shrugged, and undid his zipper, tugging his pants down and stepping out of them.

 

Patrick automatically looked away, fumbling with his own jeans, and stepping out of them with a blush. He leaned down and grabbed them, and folded them, just to give his hands something to do.

 

By the time he had taken off his jeans and folded them, Pete had taken off his shirt as well, and grinned at Patrick, who absolutely refused to look anywhere except Pete’s face.

 

“He said you just had to take off your pants, why’d you take off your shirt?”

 

“To get a better measurement, duh.” Pete’s eyes were flicking over Patrick appreciatively as he spoke, “you could do the same, you know. But you don’t have to.”

 

“You really, really don’t. Pete just does it because he likes getting naked and he’s a slut.” Ryan said absently, as he stepped up to take Pete’s measurements.

 

Spencer and Brendon snorted, while Pete pouted, shooting Ryan a look of betrayal.

 

“I remember back when you used to hero worship me. What happened?”

 

“I realized that you were kind of a dick, and I was kind of a dick, and it wouldn’t work out. Now stop squirming and let me concentrate.”

 

Pete stilled immediately, but didn’t quit talking. “They’re really good at their job, Patrick. Even if they do look bitchy, they’re nice deep down.”

 

“Really, really deep down, in Ryan’s case,” Brendon chimed in, and Ryan didn’t even reply, as Spencer shot him a disapproving look.

 

“Bren, you have to be quiet if you want to stay in here. If you can’t be quiet, I’m calling Sarah or Dallon to come get you.”

 

Brendon mimed zipping his lips, grabbing the magazine to leaf through it as he waited, occasionally peering up at them to watch Spencer work.

 

At first, Patrick was uncomfortable with being half naked in front of four guys, but Spencer was nice, and it was quiet in the room, and slowly he relaxed, which had the added bonus of letting Spencer get easier measurements.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoo okay so if I opened up fic commissions would anyone buy? I'm willing to write pretty much any pairing, provided I know the fandom, and any prompt, as well as most kinks if you want explicit 
> 
> Just tell me if anyone would be interested please!


	83. Chapter 83

The only awkward moment during the session was when the door burst open and someone wearing _flip flops_  of all things came in, carrying a few blood bags.

  


"Hey, thought you all might be hungry," he said cheerfully. When he got a look at Patrick though, he paused.

  


"Oh, hey, you're Patrick aren't you? Sorry, hi, nice to meet you. I'm Jon."

  


"Jon's a gift from the gods," Brendon said in a mock whisper, as Jon set the bags down and sat next to him on the couch.

  


Jon grinned at him, and, noticing Patrick’s look, swiftly covered the blood bags with a shirt, trying to look innocent.

  


“Jon, if you’re going to be in here, you have to be quiet. And the same goes for Brendon, yet again.” Ryan said, kneeling down to measure Pete’s inseam.

  


Brendon rolled his eyes and mimicked Ryan under his breath, to which Ryan replied by flipping him off, and standing.

  


“You almost done Spence? Because I’ll get out the clothing swatches if you are.”

  


Spencer finished up quickly and stood, nodding at Ryan. “Yeah. Maybe make sure you get the right one this time,” he teased. “We don’t want another Bill mishap.”

  


Pete snorted. “Yeah, no thanks. I’m not okay with that happening during our wedding.”

  


“Um. Bill mishap? What happened?” Patrick asked, grabbing his jeans and tugging them back on as quickly as he could.

  


“Bill asked for a new suit in gray, and Ryan--for some reason--mixed up his color order with Gabe’s. It lead to Gabe getting a jumpsuit in gray, and Bill wearing a bright purple, Dandy style suit. Gabe thought it was hilarious. Bill not so much.”

  


Brendon snorted, leaning into Jon. “How long ago was that, twenty? Thirty years? All I know is that it was due to smoking copious amounts of weed.”

  


Ryan gave him a remarkably bitchy look. “All that matters is that it was a long time ago, and it only happened once.”

  


“Yeah, because you stopped smoking when you worked.”

  


Spencer sighed, and stepped inbetween them. “Now now, stop arguing. It’s not going to happen again, especially not for this wedding. Now Pete, Patrick, which color do you want for the wedding?” He paused, and then added, “I’m asking more for Patrick’s sake, really. I don’t really trust Pete’s fashion sense.”

  


Patrick had to cover his mouth to muffle his giggles.

  


“I’m your _leader_. I gave you a place to stay, and this is how you repay me? I am hurt and offended.”

  


“My eyes are offended by your clothes, so it all works out in the end.” Spencer said, and he grabbed another swatch from Ryan, to set on the table.

  


Ryan patted Pete’s back as he passed. “Don’t worry, I still like your taste in clothes.”

  


Pete just looked at Ryan was wearing; paisley shirt and skinny jeans with a red scarf and blue vest. He deflated, and looked mournful. “Thanks, Ryan.”

  


Brendon snickered again, even as Jon gave Pete a sympathetic look, but wisely didn’t say anything. Patrick kept quiet as well, stepping forward to glance at the cloth.

  


Pete came up behind him, and wrapped his arms around his waist, and dropped his head on Patrick’s shoulder. “I like that one,” he said, pointing to a dark red color.

  


Patrick huffed, but didn’t move out of his hold. “No offense, but I don’t think that’s the best color for a wedding. Maybe something lighter? And less emo. So that leaves out a black shirt too.”

  


Pete growled just a bit in Patrick’s ear, before going back to studying the colors. “Fine then. You should be in all white, in that case. It’s lighter, and it makes sense, because of everything else.”

  


“I’m not wearing a dress, and I’m not wearing white. Shut the fuck up Pete,” Patrick said through gritted teeth, shoving his elbow back into Pete’s stomach.

  


“Okay, okay. I didn’t say anything about a dress this time. But seriously, you’d look good in white. And if you let me wear black…”

  


“We’re not going for that, don’t even try to finish that sentence.” Patrick paused, looking at the suit materials. “We’d need to complement each other, so black suits would work, and then the shirts, vests, and ties could match maybe.”

  


“That’s _boring_  though. We’re having a huge, interspecies, gay wedding. We need something more fun than just black suits. If you don’t want to wear white though, maybe a pretty blue color…”

  


“A blue suit, really? What would you suggest you wear then? This isn’t me agreeing with you, by the way. I’m just curious.”

  


“Well, you’d be the pop of color. I could wear a black suit, to show we’re opposites. Voila, beautiful contrasts.”

  


Patrick hesitated, looking over the colors carefully. “Well, I guess that would work. If we used this royal blueish color. But it wouldn’t look good with a white undershirt. It’d have to be a black shirt. That would work to complement, um--” He paused, glancing at the black cloths, and pointing at one that seemed to nearly shine in the light. “That one?”

  


Pete nodded thoughtfully. “With a duller black button up for both of us, that would work. Do you prefer ties or bow ties?”

  


“If we’re going for opposites, you could wear a tie underneath a sweater, and I could wear a matching blue bow tie?” He seemed hesitant, glancing sideways at Ryan and Spencer. “Does that sound okay?”

  


Ryan and Spencer took the cloths they suggested, and held them up together, communicating silently, before they nodded slowly. “That would work. This color blue wouldn’t wash you out, Patrick, and the black would definitely work for Pete--especially if he didn’t flatiron his hair.”

  


Spencer drummed his fingers on the table absently. “At the same time though, those aren’t very ‘wedding’ish colors. Do you know what I mean?”

  
“Yeah, but this is the _first_  gay interspecies wedding. Why can’t we be out there? It’ll scandalize the humans invited. And it’s not like we’re wearing blood red or anything. We’re being conservative, practically.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Pete](http://www1.pictures.zimbio.com/pc/Pete+Wentz+arrives+Ambassador+Theatre+watch+9GpJGi5Ejmrl.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> [Patrick](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B1tmWCb2gNc/TsURaxQKgEI/AAAAAAAAAno/wynTzAoJ1Vo/s1600/tumblr_lurjz2bRZX1qeccqco2_500.jpg)


	84. Chapter 84

Brendon muffled his laugh, “are you gonna make your groomsmen wear rainbow colors then? That’ll really shock ‘em. Go all out. Have Gabe in purple like he always wants.”

 

Pete’s eyes lit up, and Patrick shook his head. “Oh no. No, that’s not happening, we’re not doing that Pete--you can’t make me.”

 

“But _Patrick_ , just think about it. It’d be really cool and creative; remind those humans that you’re not under their thumb. And if you don’t like it then you can just blame it all on me.”

 

Patrick looked at his face, and then down at the colors, and sighed. “Fine, okay. We’ll do that.” Pete cheered.

 

“But-- _but_ , Pete. Our wedding party can’t just be guys. There have to be girls on both sides. Because fuck if this thing is gonna be dominated by testosterone, and besides that, someone who is not me, needs to carry the bouquet.”

 

“Are you still going to wear the garters though? It’s a tradition.”

 

Patrick flushed, but said in a remarkably even tone, “only if you wear them as well.”

 

Pete was dumbstruck, and the others in the room seemed to be in the same state.

 

Ryan cleared his throat. “Well, in that case, I’ll have them made special. Would you rather they matched your suits or the other’s suit?”

 

“Well, if Pete wanted me in white so much…”

 

“Oh my god,” Pete breathed out, “I love you.”

 

Patrick’s face was pink, but he looked smug, even if he refused to look at anyone else in the room.

 

Everyone else in the room, however, was definitely looking at him, with various types of awe on their faces.

 

“So,” Patrick said, when no one else spoke, “is that all we’re needed for? Because, like, as long as the groomsmen all wear the same type of suit, and the ladies in the same dress, but not in the same colors. Um. If that’s okay, I mean.”

 

Spencer nodded, and cleared his throat, “yeah, it’s fine. You can leave, we’ve got all the measurements and color design choices we needed. All Pete needs to do is get dressed.”

 

Pete finally pulled away from Patrick, and grabbed his clothes, tugging on his shirt and squirming into his skinny jeans, before grabbing Patrick’s hand. “We’re out of here. Good luck, call us when you need fittings again. Bye.”

 

After Pete had pulled Patrick out of the room, and the door closed, Brendon sat up. “So, uh. Is anyone gonna say what we’re all thinking? Because if y’all won’t, I’ll do it.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes, “don’t even Brendon--”

 

“I’m just saying. Garters? On _those_  thighs? Really hot. Great thought to have during a wedding.”

 

“Pete is going to kill you.” Jon said, patting his back sympathetically. “He’s going to kill us all so we keep quiet.”

 

“At least we’ll die happy,” Brendon sighed out, before slumping back on the couch. “Now hand over the blood, I’m hungry.”

 

* * *

 

 

Pete was nearly jittering as he dragged Patrick away, and Patrick kept quiet, just trying to keep up. When they had made it back to Pete’s room, he shut the door firmly behind them, and then crowded Patrick into the wall.

 

“Are you seriously going to wear the garters? Really?”

 

Patrick flushed, and pressed back onto the wall, staring up at Pete. “Yes? I mean. I figured it was a good idea, seeing as you kept asking, and asking. And it’s not like you’re not going to wear them.”

 

Pete shook his head. “That’s not the point. Just-- _fuck_ , Patrick. That’s just--” Pete took a deep breath. “You still want to wait for the wedding to kiss?”

 

Patrick looked at Pete with wide eyes. “Um, yes?” He said, wincing when his voice cracked. “Can I have some room, please?”

 

Patrick licked his lips nervously, and Pete groaned, before he shook out of whatever thought he was having, and took five large steps back.

 

“Sorry. I--sorry. I won’t do that again, I promise.” Pete said, when Patrick continued staring at him warily.

 

Patrick nodded slightly, “um. Good, thank you. See that you don’t.”

 

 


	85. Chapter 85

Pete nodded, giving Patrick a slightly strained looking smile. “Well then, let’s go see what Andy and Joe are up to. Hopefully they didn’t get bored and fuck on your bed.”

 

That got a response out of Patrick, at least. “Is that likely? If they are, I’ll kill them. I have to _sleep_  there, dammit.”

 

Pete laughed, and opened the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll go in first to save your virgin eyes from seeing them naked.”

 

“I don’t have virgin eyes, you fuck,” Patrick protested, following behind Pete, who just laughed.

 

“Right, I forgot about the porn you were watching before; my bad.”

 

Patrick shoved him, and then looked in the room; thankfully, Andy and Joe were still dressed, and on the couch.

 

Joe did give them a funny look when they came in though. “Why were you talking about virgin eyes? Especially after your wedding measurements getting taken.”

 

Pete waved his concerns off, and collapsed on the couch beside him. “Never you mind, JoeTroh. What’s more important is the fact that you and Andy are in the wedding party.”

 

“I’m not wearing a dress,” Joe said automatically, before he registered what Pete had said. “Wait, seriously? I’m guessing I’m on Patrick’s side in this case?”

 

Pete clasped Joe on the shoulder. “Yeah you are, and Andy’s on mine. And you don’t get a choice over if you wear a dress or not, cause it’s not your wedding.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, and took a seat on Andy’s side. “No one’s wearing a dress, except maybe the girls. Don’t worry about it Joe.”

 

Andy turned his head just slightly to look at him, “what if someone does want to wear a dress? What then?”

 

Pete grinned, and leaned over Joe to look at Andy. “If you wanna wear a dress, baby, feel free. You’ve got fantastic legs.”

 

Andy inclined his head in thanks, “I figured with your taste someone who is seen as masculine might as well wear a dress, without making a mockery of women--any women--while doing it. And if I do it, then Gabe won’t try--and he’d try to steal the show, at any rate.”

 

“Very good point, and I appreciate it, Andy. You can even choose what color you want it to be when you have your fittings. We’re doing rainbow groomsmen and women.”

 

Joe snorted. “Excellent choice. Can I wear red? Andy and I could match that way.”

 

“Works for me. We can have matching colors on both sides! That’ll look cool.”

 

Patrick nodded, looking thoughtful. “We do kinda need to start asking people anyways. Um. Who are you choosing?”

 

“I can choose anyone I like; I think you need to decide who you want first. To narrow down my pool, I mean.”

 

Patrick worried his lip, “um. Well I already have Joe. So maybe Travie? And, um. I dunno. Victoria? She seems pretty cool. And intimidating.”

 

Pete nodded thoughtfully. “That works for me. I can choose Gabe, William and Andy in that case; and if you choose another person, I can take Hayley too.”

 

“Oh. Um. I don’t know? That is, uh. Pretty difficult. I guess Gerard? That way like, Gabe can match Victoria, William and Travie, Andy and Joe, Hayley and Gerard, I guess. And, um. Maybe Tyler for ringbearer? With Greta as flower girl."

 

"I mean, I can see Greta as flower girl, and you'll make Victoria happy with that, but really? Tyler?"

 

Patrick's eyes narrowed, and he jutted his jaw out stubbornly. "Yes, Tyler. I like him, and I don't know anyone else I'd prefer, except maybe Josh." He paused. "Or maybe Jenna."

 

Pete sighed. "Fine, fine, you can ask him, and your other choices. Don't feel bad if he doesn't want to though; he's kind of shy. So's Josh."

 

"He'll do it, trust me," Patrick said confidently. "He's a good guy. Now is that all we have to discuss?"

 

"Well, it is by ourselves. I've already decided on Ryland as the priest; he's got a license and everything. After that though--we'll have to meet with the wedding planner to decide everything else, to be honest."

 

"Great. Then grab the other controllers and let's make this a four person game. I'm gonna kick your asses."

 

They then proceeded to play the game for another few others, after which Patrick had to break to grab something to eat, while Joe and Andy went to do the same, leaving Pete and Patrick alone.

 

 


	86. Chapter 86

The environment was more quiet than awkward, with Pete watching Patrick eat, and Patrick ignoring him in favor of messing around on GarageBand. It was very domestic, and, to be honest, Pete loved it.

 

He could definitely imagine doing this with Patrick for a long time; eating together and making small talk, or discussing their days, or even just doing their work in the same room together, before going to bed.

 

He was more than a little smitten, to say the least, and he was so glad that Patrick felt the same way.

 

He must've been grinning or something, because Patrick looked up at him and gave him a weird look, touching his mouth carefully.

 

"What? Do I have food on my face or something?"

 

Pete shook his head and continued grinning. "Nah. You're just so cute, I can't help it."

 

Patrick went pink, and tugged his cap down over his eyes. "Shut up, you dork." He paused, and then, since no one was around, he reached out and grabbed Pete's hand and squeezed.

 

"I think you're cute too, but you don't see me staring like an idiot. Rein it in a little, unless you want me to die of spontaneous combustion before the wedding."

 

Pete tugged Patrick's hand up and brushed his lips over it, before smiling at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh no, we can't have that, now can we?"

 

Patrick huffed, and pulled his hand away, his ears going pink as well. "Shut up, I hate you. This is the thanks I get for agreeing to your awful wedding plan? The planner is totally going to kill you, by the way."

 

"Nah, they won't. I'm getting Gerard to do it."

 

Patrick looked at him in disbelief. "As in the person I met the other day? They looked kinda like..."

 

"It'll be great, a real show stopper. They like rainbows and also blood and zombies. What's better way to freak people out?"

 

Patrick gaped at him for a moment, before he pulled his hand away from Pete. "Okay, no. Just--no. That's not happening. I refuse to marry you if our wedding looks like the set of Halloween Horror Nights for Republicans."

 

Pete snorted, and then pouted. "Why not though? It'd be funny."

 

" _No_. We're having a classy wedding that I would've wanted my parents to be at." Patrick swallowed hard, but continued. "The rainbow suits are enough; can't we do something nicer? Like, outside wedding or something? At night, obviously, but if we put up string lights and stuff..."

 

“Very romantic. Very classy.” Pete said. He somehow managed to sound disapproving about that, and Patrick frowned.

 

“What’s wrong with classy? We’re already doing rainbows, I don’t see why we have to go stereotypical vampire wedding. Especially since, y’know. I’m not a vampire.”

 

Pete pouted at him. “Yeah, but vampire wedding sounds cooler than classy wedding. And-- _and_  it’d scare the shit out of those humans.”

 

“No. You really don’t want to scare them, because they might get twitchy and try to start a war.”

 

Pete sighed and leaned over the table to grab Patrick's hand again. "Fine, fine. We'll have your classy wedding. But can we at least put like, blood red roses and black ones? And red wine that looks like blood? That'd be cool right?"

 

"I guess that would work for me. But we're keeping the fairy lights, or whatever they're called, and no one is going to intimidate each other. Got it?"

 

"Well, you better be relaxed then, because you're the most intimidating person I know, 'Trick."

 

That startled a grin out of Patrick, and he shoved at Pete lightly, laughing. "Shut up, dickhead. I'm like, five foot nothing and the only person younger than me is like, Joe."

 

“Hey now, I’m only a few inches taller than you, and I’m plenty intimidating. So’s Frank, and he’s like, your height. That doesn’t make you unintimidating. I mean, you’re really bossy, too.”

 

Patrick narrowed his eyes, and kicked Pete’s shin. “Don’t call me bossy, you--you Slytherin.”

 

Pete gasped, and looked wounded. “Why would you remind me of that? How could you be so cruel? That’s not very Hufflepuff of you.”

 

“Yeah, well, calling me bossy isn’t very Gryffindor of you, seeing as that’s what you want to be. So shut up, and stop being a loser.”

 

“You started it!” Pete said, kicking Patrick lightly back.

 

Patrick scowled at him. “No, you did, when you called me bossy. I’m not bossy, stop calling me that.”

 

“You _just_  told me what to do. That’s like, the definition of bossy. You are the bossiest person I’ve ever had the honor of meeting.”

 

“You’re damn right it’s an honor to meet me. And I’m not bossy. You’re bossy. So there.” Patrick, feeling childish, promptly stuck his tongue out at Pete.

  
Pete stuck his tongue out back at Patrick, and they proceeded to make weird, absurd faces at each other, until someone cleared their throat behind them.


	87. Chapter 87

Patrick turned around, startled, to see Joe and Andy standing in the doorway snickering at them.

 

“We interrupting something? Because we can leave.” Joe said, leaning against Andy as he spoke.

 

“I don’t know if we should leave, Joe. Maybe they were accidentally de-aged while we were gone. We don’t want to leave them alone, in that case.”

 

“Fuck you both,” Pete said, standing up and moving in front of the table to flip them off, as Patrick made a face at them.

 

Joe, because he was a true friend, made a ridiculous face back, which made Patrick glad he was still sitting down as he laughed.

 

“So, Patrick, it seems like you’re finally getting used to the vampire clock.” Andy said, when Patrick had calmed down.

 

Patrick nodded, and smiled slightly. “Yeah. It helps that I’m getting a good night--well, day’s--sleep, in an actual bed.” He paused. “It also helps that none of you snore, even if you are clingy when you’re sleeping.”

 

“You’re clingy too, so don’t even start with me, Patrick.” Pete said, rubbing the top of Patrick’s hat with an evil grin on his face.

 

Patrick batted his hand away. “How would you know? I haven’t even gotten the chance to cling, what with me always being the little spoon.” He frowned. “Maybe I wanna be the big spoon every once in a while.”

 

“Actually Patrick, I think that’d be called jetpacking,” Joe chimed in, grinning down at him. “You know, because you’d be smaller than the little spoon.”

 

“Well maybe I’d find someone shorter than me to spoon, so there. I can do whatever I want.”

 

Pete frowned at him, “no you can’t. You better not go around cuddling with people who aren’t me--or Joe and Andy, I guess. But mostly me.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” Joe said sarcastically, but he was promptly ignored.

 

“I will cuddle with whoever I want. You can’t control me. If I want to curl up in someone’s lap, or--or spoon someone, I will do it.”

 

Pete reared back, as if shocked. “You wouldn’t like it if I was going around, cuddling other people, so you can’t do that.”

 

Joe and Andy gave each other slightly exasperated looks. “Both of you are arguing over ‘what ifs.’ Chill out. Patrick’s not going to go cuddle random people, and you’re not either Pete. Stop picking at petty things to argue about.”

 

Patrick folded his arms and stared at the ground, sullen. “You’re right, I guess. But he can’t control what I do.”

 

“And he can’t keep saying things to make me feel jealous.” Pete said.

 

Andy sighed, “here’s the thing; you’re both going to say things to make each other jealous, and you’re both going to be dumb and say things that imply that you want to control the other. Get over it. There’s a hot tip for a better relationship, you two.”

 

Pete and Patrick looked at each other, and away, and Joe sighed. “You two are idiots. Get over it. Kiss and make up.”

 

They eyed each other, as if they were waiting for the other to bite, and Andy rolled his eyes. “You don’t actually have to kiss, but seriously. Apologize to each other, now.”

 

Patrick huffed, and kicked the ground. “I’m sorry for implying that I was going to cheat on you via cuddling. Okay?”

 

“Well, I’m sorry for trying to control you. You can cuddle whoever you want; as long as you ask me first.”

 

Patrick narrowed his eyes, but begrudgingly said, “apology accepted, I guess. Can we get over it now?”

 

"I'm already over it, babe. Now let's all just chill. We can watch a few more movies until you fall asleep, anyways."

 

Patrick frowned, "I'm not going to fall asleep, you dick. Don't demean me."

 

Pete held his hands up defensively. "I'm not demeaning you, just saying you're gonna fall asleep, like usual."

 

Patrick straightened up, and all out glared at Pete. "Fuck you, I'm not gonna fall asleep."

 

Andy grabbed Pete's arm and tugged him out of the room. "Nope, no more fighting. If you two won't get along we're separating the two of you."

 

Pete pulled away from Andy and rolled his eyes. "We weren't going to fight, it was just a little teasing."

 

"Well now you're both on edge, and pissy, and we're not having you two yelling again. Now sit down, shut up, and play video games with me until you calm down."

 

 


	88. Chapter 88

Joe, meanwhile, had grabbed Patrick, and sat him back at the table. "Calm down, Patrick. You and I both know he didn't mean anything by it. He was just teasing, and you're on edge. That's no reason to start fighting again."

 

Patrick was very much sulking as he sat, slumped in the chair and not looking at Joe. "He started it."

 

"Yeah, well, this is us finishing it. Seriously, what the fuck is going on? You were fine earlier."

 

Patrick shrugged. "I dunno. He's just--an irritating bastard, sometimes. Thinking he can control me, and treat me like a child."

 

"So that's what it is, huh? It's because he's not respecting you? Have you sat down and talked to him about that yet?"

 

"Not recently. But he's not gonna change. When we talked about it before he said I'd never be his equal, cause I was a gift or whatever, for the treaty."

 

"That's bullshit, and we're gonna talk about this again, because if he still thinks that, I'll kick his ass myself."

 

“Thanks, Joe. But he’s such a--I can’t really take him seriously, most of the time, and then he pulls shit like that, and mocks me. I’m not a kid anymore, and I’d appreciate not being treated like one.”

 

“Dude, I know, trust me. It took a while for Andy to take me seriously too, until he remembered that he was a kid once too, or whatever. Look, how about we go in there and have a nice, quiet discussion about you being treated fairly, and what you guys want out of a relationship, because there have obviously been some miscommunications somewhere along the line.”

 

Patrick stood, and hugged Joe, “have I mentioned that I love you lately? If you ever want to run away with me, just know that.”

 

Joe looked pleased, and briefly hugged Patrick back, “yeah, well, everyone loves me. Now let’s do this shit.”

 

Patrick followed Joe out of the kitchen, and into the living room, where Andy and Pete were playing video games. Joe cleared his throat, and Andy immediately paused the game, turning to look at him.

 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Andy said, when he realized no one was going to speak.

 

Joe folded his arms, and looked at Pete. “We need to talk. And by ‘we,’ I mean you and Patrick. All this fighting definitely isn’t good, and you need to actually talk about what you want out of this relationship. Seriously, you two, Andy and I can’t step in every time you two argue.”

 

“Why are you looking at me like I’m the one who starts everything?” Pete demanded, leaning back against the couch as he stared up at Joe.

 

“Well, for one, you’re the older one; you should know better than to fight. And for another, why the fuck did you tell Patrick he wasn’t your equal?”

 

Andy looked at Pete at that, and Pete scowled harder. “I said that like, two weeks ago, and it’s true. No matter how you look at it, I’m older and more powerful than him. And it’s not like I’d treat him like he wasn’t my equal! But seriously--”

 

“How am I supposed to know that? You’re nice most of the time, but sometimes I’m reminded that you could quite easily do anything to me, and it’s not _fair_!”

 

“You really think I’d do that? Why don’t you trust me? I thought you loved me.”

 

“Just because I love you doesn’t mean that sometimes you scare me. That’s what happens when you’re engaged to something you’re vaguely terrified of.”

 

“There’s nothing to be scared of! I promised I wouldn’t bite you, or anything, without permission--why are you still scared?”

 

“Because you could slip up easily and bite me, and I wouldn’t have anyone on my side. The leaders would probably be happy because it meant war if I complained, and it’s not like I could discuss my fear of vampires with _vampires_.”

 

 


	89. Chapter 89

Pete sat up, and looked up at him with wide eyes. “I--I didn’t think about it like that,” Pete admitted. “I’m sorry, Patrick.”

 

Patrick folded in on himself, “yeah, well. Of course you wouldn’t think about that, you’re already a vampire. Just. I get it, you’re more powerful than me. But could you stop acting like it? At least try to pretend we’re equal, and you’re not just humoring me?”

 

“I’m not humoring you, I promise--fuck, if I had known you felt like that, I would have stopped. I’m sorry. And I swear, I won’t bite you, not without your permission, and if that never happens, then I won’t mind, I promise. Hell, I’ll even stop drinking blood, if that’s what makes you uncomfortable.”

 

“I--you don’t have to take it that far. I don’t wanna mess up your diet, or anything like that. Just, please, keep in mind that I’m human. But at the same time, don’t treat me like I’m fragile, or a little kid.”

 

“I won’t, I promise.” Pete stood, and dragged Patrick into a hug, which Patrick gladly returned.

 

To help clear the air, Andy coughed lightly, and when they looked at him, he said, “well, Patrick might not want you to change your diet, but if you’re looking for a second opinion…”

 

Patrick buried his face in Pete’s neck to laugh, and Pete tried to maintain a serious face. “Joe, do me a favor and punch him, will you?”

 

Joe held his hands up in front of him. “Are you kidding me? He could break all of us in half _at once_ without breaking a sweat. That’s not happening.”

 

“Yeah, well, neither is me changing my diet for Andy.”

 

Andy rolled his eyes, and sat back, fond smile on his face, “I thought I might as well try.”

 

Pete separated from Patrick, and rubbed Andy’s hair, mussing it. “I’d maybe consider changing my diet if we were getting married, but seeing as that’s illegal…”

 

“Damn. Well, there’s always my dreams, at least. And the fact that you’re not so secretly a giant cuddler.”

 

“You’re damn right I am.” Pete said, and then he flopped in Andy’s lap, cackling when Andy let out an ‘oof.’

 

Joe and Patrick looked at each other, before shrugging, and joining Pete by piling on top of Andy.

 

Andy just groaned, and tried to find a more comfortable position. “Why? I am but a simple vegan vampire. Why did you feel the need to crush me?”

 

“Because you’re strong enough to take it. Now stop squirming, we’re trying to get comfortable.”

 

“ _You’re_ trying to get comfortable? I’m at the bottom of this pile, I think I have a right to want to be comfortable.”

 

“That’s not the only thing you’re at the bottom of,” Pete said, and there was an awkward pause, as they all took in that statement.

 

“...Actually, no, you’re wrong there.” Andy said, remarkably clearly, and Joe groaned, rolling off of the couch and onto the floor, presumably to die in peace.


	90. Chapter 90

Patrick dropped off the couch as well, to grab Joe’s legs as he tried to crawl away from them. “Joe, no, don’t leave me alone with these two.”

 

“I’m afraid I must,” Joe said dramatically. “For Andrew has put a stain on my honor, and now I must go into the wilderness to die.”

 

“Take me with you then, please Joseph. We can die together then!”

 

Pete cackled, and Andy, now that he was able, shoved Pete onto the floor, making him yelp, loudly.

 

“How did I manage to get stuck with you three? You’re giant drama queens.”

 

Joe flipped him off, before continuing to drag himself, and Patrick, over to the wall. “You’re just jealous that I don’t want to go into the wilderness with you.”

 

“Yes, I am definitely jealous that you want to go die in a forest with Patrick. How did you guess?”

 

“I just know these sort of things,” Joe said, trying to appear wise. The effect was ruined, because he was still crawling on the floor, dragging Patrick behind him as Patrick giggled.

 

Pete sat up, and looked at them. “Hey! You scoundrel, give me back my bride. If anyone gets to die in a forest with Patrick, it’s me.”

 

Joe, having gotten to the wall, dragged Patrick up next to him, and wrapped his limbs around him. “No, he’s mine now,” and he cackled, giving a fairly good impression of a cartoon villain. All he needed was the mustache to twirl.

 

Patrick continued giggling, as Pete scrambled to his feet and bounded over to them, and grabbed Patrick’s arm. “Give him back.”

 

Joe shook his head fiercely, and tugged back, until Patrick was being pulled between them, still laughing helplessly.

 

“Andy,” he said between laughs, “help me, they’re gonna pull me apart.”

 

Andy sighed, and got off the couch, moving over to them to pull Patrick away from them easily, and cradling Patrick in his arms.

 

“There, I’ve saved you. Now you’re mine.” Andy said, before walking away with Patrick in his arms, and Pete and Joe looked indignant.

 

Pete grabbed Joe, who started squirming immediately, “hey, lemme go.”

 

“Nay,” Pete said loudly, “I will not let you go, until Andy sets Patrick free.”

 

Andy just looked up at him, from where he was sitting, Patrick in his lap. “Patrick, do you want to be set free?” He asked mildly.

 

Patrick hummed thoughtfully, and shook his head. “I’m good here. Thanks though.”

 

Pete gasped, offended, and he tightened his arms around Joe. “Andy, give him back, or I’m stealing Joe away forever.”

 

“Joe wanted to die in the wilderness anyways, so it doesn’t really bother me.”

 

Now Joe was offended, squirming harder in Pete’s arms, “hey! I wasn’t _really_ going to. Come save me, right now, Andrew Hurley.”

 

Andy sighed, and set Patrick down on the couch before standing and walking to Pete. “Alright, Patrick’s free. Give me my Joe back.”

 

“He’s my Joe now. I’ve decided you can keep Patrick.”

 

“No one can keep Patrick, because Patrick is his own person.” He paused, “and Patrick now realizes he should stop talking in third person.”

 

Pete made a face, before handing Joe over to Andy, and going over to wrap himself around Patrick. He nuzzled his shoulder. “Can I keep Patrick?” He said hopefully.

 

Patrick looked thoughtful, patting Pete’s cheek. “Well, I don’t know...what’s in it for me?”

 

“My love and adoration? My affection and good looks? My money?”

 

Patrick hummed again, before turning to kiss Pete’s cheek, as Joe made disgusted noises, “yeah, fair enough. I guess that’s good enough. But you better stay rich, or else I’m gone.”

 

“Andy, their sweetness is giving me diabetes. Get me out of here, before I die from it.” Joe demanded, and Andy shrugged, before carrying Joe towards the door.

 

“We’re out of here. Have fun, and don’t kill each other.”

 

 


	91. Chapter 91

Pete flipped him off, but didn’t move away from where he was nuzzling Patrick’s neck. When he heard the door close, he just moved even closer, as Patrick sighed and tilted his neck to give Pete more room.

 

“You’re a child,” Patrick said, but he sounded affectionate, eyes closing as he basked in the affection.

 

“Nah, I’m older than you. And it’s not like you don’t love it, so shush.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, and moved his hand up to pet Pete’s hair. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

 

“Because I’m rich and hot and nice. Now shh, pillows aren’t supposed to talk.”

 

Patrick flicked his ear, and yelped as Pete flicked his stomach in return. “Asshole. And I thought I was supposed to be the one who fell asleep first. We’re not sleeping on the couch.”

 

Pete yawned, obnoxiously loud in Patrick’s ear, before unwrapping from around him and standing, to tug Patrick up as well.

 

“Fine then. Go put on your pajamas, I’m sleeping in here tonight.”

 

Patrick made a face at his back as Pete tugged off his shirt, and when Pete started undoing his jeans, Patrick grabbed his pajamas and went in the bathroom to change.

 

When he came back out, Pete was sprawled in his bed, and Patrick made a face, before padding over to the bed and getting in carefully.

 

As soon as he did, Pete rolled over and wrapped around him gleefully. “Took you long enough,” he mumbled.

 

“You could’ve fallen asleep without me, you know. It’s not like I’m needed.”

 

“I’ll always need you, ‘Trick. Now sing me to sleep.”

 

“Are you serious? I’m not going to do that. I’m tired too.”

 

Pete whined obnoxiously, and clung even closer to Patrick. “Please? C’mon Patrick, _please_?”

 

Patrick groaned, but began humming quietly, eyes closed as he sang quietly enough that the words didn’t matter, only the tone did. Soon enough, Pete’s hold lessened just a bit, and he was asleep, Patrick following shortly after.

 

* * *

 

 

Others were falling asleep around the house as well, as the sun came up. The only ones still awake had returned to their rooms as well, in hopes of sleeping, or doing quiet activities so as to not disturb the others around them.

 

Bill, on the other hand, was not only awake but also planning. He had gotten reports from a few of his spies, and it worried him. It seemed that Blurry had managed to get in with Shane Morris’ group, somehow, and was making himself comfortable, and indisposable to the group.

 

That would make getting rid of him even harder. It also didn’t help that there hadn’t been any reports of Blurry looking for Tyler; it meant he either knew exactly where he was, or had something else in mind.

 

Just lovely. It was his job to keep everyone in DecayDance safe, and if he didn’t know what was going on, that made it even harder. He definitely wasn’t getting any sleep today.

 

He drummed his fingers on his desk, staring at his desk as he thought. He might have to send someone else in, to investigate why Morris thought he needed Blurry’s help. Maybe he’d need to go in himself, if it proved too difficult for his men to deal with, especially if he wanted to get it dealt with before the wedding.

 

Decision made, he stood, and left the room to go find Tyler. He moved through the hallways silently, until he made it to Tyler’s shared room. It stood quietly for a moment, and he could hear movement inside, indicating they were awake.

 

He knocked, and the movement stilled, before finally, Jenna opened the door. “Yes? How can I help you, Bill?”

  
“I need to speak to Tyler, alone. Can you get him for me please?”


	92. Chapter 92

Jenna looked unsure, and she closed the door just a bit, looking back at the bed, to shield them from view. “Ty,” she said quietly, “it’s Bill. He wants to speak to you.”

 

Tyler nodded slowly, and moved over Josh to get out of bed, pulling on a shirt before going to the door.

 

Jenna opened the door and let him out into the hallway. “I’ll be back in a bit, just leave the door unlocked, please,” Tyler said quietly, aware that people were sleeping around them. Jenna nodded, and kissed his cheek, before closing the door with a quiet click.

 

Tyler and Bill looked at each other for a moment, before Bill finally turned, and motioned for Tyler to follow him to his office, which he did quietly. When they got there, Bill invited him in, and Tyler perched nervously on a chair, watching Bill carefully as he closed the door and took a seat at his desk.

 

“What did you need?” Tyler asked, a bit nervously.

 

“I need to know if you’ve heard anything from Blurry,” Bill said after another moment of tense silence. “See if you can tap into your connection with him.”

 

Tyler blinked, startled, “um. What? I can’t just _do_ that. I don’t even know if I still have it, and he might find out what I’m doing.”

 

Bill leaned forward in his seat, locking eyes with Tyler. “You and I both know you still have that connection, and if we want to find out what he’s up to, you’ll need to do it.”

 

Tyler took a shaky breath, and pulled his hands into his sleeves, hugging himself a bit. “Fine, okay. He’s probably asleep though, so I don’t think I’ll get anything good,” he cautioned.

 

Bill just raised an eyebrow. “That just means luck is on your side, in terms of not getting caught. Now do whatever you need to do that.”

 

Tyler took a deep breath, dropped his arms, and closed his eyes, hands clenched on the arms of the chair as he concentrated. It took a moment, before he slumped in his chair, and Bill sat up, alert, to watch him.

 

He still appeared to be breathing, thankfully, and his eyes were moving behind his eyelids, so Bill settled back to watch him carefully.

 

Tyler wasn't having nearly as easy of a time. He could definitely still tap into the connection, but Blurry was not asleep. In fact, he was very much awake, judging by the sight that met Tyler.

 

"God--oh my god," Tyler breathed out, thankful that he couldn't smell anything, because the sight of the bloody, lifeless bodies surrounding of Blurry were bad enough.

 

Thankfully, Blurry didn't notice his presence. He was too busy humming cheerfully to himself as he smeared the blood on his hands, his arms, and his neck. Tyler swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit, and then Blurry turned suddenly, towards the doorway.

 

"That enough blood for you?" An unnamed man said, leaning on the wall next to the door. Blurry shrugged.

 

"It's sufficient, for what I need. What do you need from me?" Tyler flinched--he'd go the rest of his life gladly without hearing his own voice in those deep, chilly tones.

 

"I just wanted to see if you were fine in here, that's all."

 

"Don't lie to me. I know you've been there for ten minutes, watching. Now why don't you tell me what you really want?"

 

The man held his hands up defensively. "I just wanted to know what your plan was. I mean, you can't have just came to Chicago to play with some humans. And there's no way you're helping us out of the goodness of your heart."

 

"You're right about that, Morris. I don't have any good in my heart. And if you must know, I'm here to investigate some of the leaders I've heard so much about--and to find something I lost. Now does that answer your question?"

 

Morris nodded, and relaxed again. "Of course. I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine. I wanna make those fuckers burn. You're going to help with that?"

 

Blurry waved his hand dismissively, and turned around, back to the bodies. "I already said I would. You and I know where they're located, and all we need is a crack to slip in; and that crack is slowly opening. Now leave, I'm busy."

 

When the door closed, Blurry sat down in the middle of the mess, dragging a body towards him like it weighed nothing.

 

"Now Tyler, whatever am I going to do with you?" He mused, cupping the body's face.

  
He abruptly dropped the body, and stood. "Tyler, dear, I know you can hear and see me. You might want to leave, before this gets gorier."


	93. Chapter 93

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A panic attack is described in this chapter so if that bothers you please keep it in mind

With a yelp, Tyler came back to his own body, opening his eyes and gulping for air. Bill stood, coming back from around the desk to crouch next to Tyler.

 

"What happened?" He demanded briskly, as Tyler kept shaking. He paused, before carefully touching Tyler's shoulder, and making him flinch.

 

"Tyler," he said, in a much softer tone. "Do you need me to get somebody? Or do you want me to take you back to your room?"

 

Tyler was still shaking, crying quietly, and he shook his head, just enough for Bill to notice. "Okay. Just--it's going to be okay. He's not here, he can't hurt you."

 

Bill was careful to speak quietly, and not touch him again. "Hey, look at me, concentrate on matching your breaths to mine."

 

Tyler nodded, and tried to relax, staring at how Bill was taking a deep breath and holding it, before releasing it on a count of three. It took a few minutes, but Tyler was finally breathing a bit more normally, even if he was still shivering.

 

“That’s good, you did so good,” Bill said kindly, and he continued kneeling by Tyler. “Is it okay if I touch you? I can carry you back to your room if you like.”

 

Tyler wiped at his eyes angrily, and shook his head. “I’m--I’m good. I can walk. I don’t wanna worry them.”

 

Bill nodded, and stood, moving back over to the desk. “Do you want to talk about what happened? Or just go back to your room?”

 

Tyler sniffed. “I--he was surrounded by dead bodies. He was using their blood for something, I--it was really bad.” He shuddered again. “There was a guy named Morris? They were speaking vaguely, but it seemed they had a way in here.”

 

“Okay, that’s--thank you for trying for me, you did so well.”

 

“Morris said he wanted to crush you all. And that he was helping find me.” He swallowed hard, and hunched in on himself. “He knew I was there. Probably the whole time. He spoke to me.”

 

Bill sucked in a breath, and didn’t move. “Ah. I’m sorry for making you try that. What--if you don’t mind, I mean--what did he talk to you about?”

 

“He--he just told me to get out of his head, unless I wanted to see--” he swallowed, and shook his head, looking a bit ill. “He grabbed one of the bodies, and I guess like he was pretending it was me? And then he spoke to me, tell me to leave unless I wanted to see him work. And I’d seen him work before, and--I just couldn’t, not again.”

 

Bill touched his arm carefully. “I’m not going to make you do that again, okay? Thank you, that was very informative. Do you need to stay in here for a bit, before you go back?”

 

Tyler shook his head, and wiped his eyes again. "I'm fine, really. I'm sorry I couldn't help more. And thanks. I don't think he can get in my head, right now, and I don't know if he'd want to."

 

He stood, a bit shaky, before folding his arms, and nodding at Bill. "I hope I helped a bit. Sleep well, Bill."

 

Bill stood as well, and patted Tyler on the back. "Sleep well, Tyler." He paused, and smiled carefully. "Please don't sic your group on me. I'd hate to die this early."

 

Tyler smiled weakly, and left Bill alone in the room, walking back to his room quickly, and slipping through the doorway, locking the door.

 

Of course, Jenna, Josh, and Debby were still up, and eyed him anxiously. “Hey, Ty. You okay?”

 

Tyler relaxed, and nodded, “yeah, now I am. Can I be in the middle tonight?"

 

Wordlessly, they made him a space, and he crawled between them, letting them pile on top of him.

 

"Hey, we love you." Jenna whispered quietly and Tyler curled up even tighter, before closing his eyes and trying to sleep.

 

 


	94. Chapter 94

So, Blurryface knew a way in, according to Tyler, and he apparently knew what was going on too. That was very worrying; especially if he knew about Patrick.

 

It meant they'd need to up the security on the grounds, and possibly post a guard at Pete's door; it also meant not allowing anyone in or out of the house.

 

He frowned deeper, and left his office, locking the door behind him. Knowing Pete was probably wrapped up with Patrick, he decided to leave it for tomorrow; no vampires could get in the house today, and he knew all the secret entrances and exits to the house; he'd block them up tomorrow.

 

He headed up towards his room, when Travie leaned out of his doorway. "Hey, Bill. You having deep thoughts again? Get your ass in here."

 

A smile creeped on Bill's face, and he nodded, slinking his into Travie's room, the door closing firmly behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Surprisingly, Patrick woke up first. It seemed that when the night involved Pete wrapped around him like a particularly cuddly octopus, he was out like a light.

 

Patrick was just glad that Pete wasn’t snoring in his ear, with how his face was mashed against Patrick’s neck. He shivered as Pete moved, his mouth pressing against his artery, and jerked away abruptly.

 

“Pete,” he hissed, “either wake up, or lemme go.”

 

Pete, as he was still asleep, ignored him. Patrick pulled away again, trying to sit up and get Pete untangled.

 

It didn’t work. Pete’s legs were tangled with his, and his arms were firmly around Patrick’s waist--and it was with a blush that Patrick realized that Pete’s hand was shoved up his shirt.

 

“Pete, c’mon,” he said in a louder voice, digging his nails into Pete’s arm.

 

Pete just groaned, and buried his face in Patrick’s chest, before stilling again.

 

“Pete, if you don’t let me go, I’ll bite you again.”

 

When Pete didn’t answer, Patrick sighed, exasperated, and picked a spot right above Pete’s collarbone, before biting down, hard.

 

Rather than the yelp Patrick was expecting, though, Pete’s hips jerked against Patrick’s, and he moaned.

 

Patrick blushed crimson, and jerked away from Pete as much as he could. “Pete,” he squeaked out, embarrassed, and he had to clear his throat being trying again.

 

“Pete, wake up, and lemme go, goddammit,” Patrick said, rather loudly into Pete’s ear.

 

Pete woke up slowly, aware of two things; One, that he was wrapped around someone warm, and squirmy, and two, that the squirming provided great friction against his cock.

 

And that’s when he realized who exactly he was wrapped around, and who was currently yelling his his ear. (It wasn’t so much the fact that Patrick was saying his name into his ear that was the bad part; just the yelling. Pete would’ve liked it if Patrick was moaning instead, but he took what he could get.)

 

He sat upright, which meant that Patrick was half in his lap, both of them sprawled all over each other, Patrick bright red.

 

“Oh good, you’re up. Um, I have to use the bathroom, so let me go, please. And, uh. You probably have to use the bathroom too, so. Yeah. I woke you up.”

 

Pete just stared at him blankly, before nodding quickly. “Yeah, you’re totally right. I’m just going to. Go now.”

 

He untangled himself from Patrick, cursing the fact that he was only wearing boxers, and hurried to his bathroom, locking the door behind himself.

 

He peered in the mirror, prodding the bite mark, and he hissed at the pain, reaching down to squeeze his cock, in an attempt to calm down.

 

It didn’t work, and so he leaned back against the wall, eyes locked on the mirror as he tugged his boxers down roughly, and wrapped a hand around his cock.

 

He bit his lip to keep himself quiet as he started jerking himself off quickly, grimacing at the dryness of it. But still, the friction felt good, and the pain was nice as well, and when he twisted his wrist on the upstroke, he bucked into his fist, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he imagined fucking Patrick’s mouth.

 

It’d be so nice, hand on the back of Patrick’s neck as he slowly split Patrick’s mouth open, watching him drool around his dick, tears in his eyes as he stared up at Pete. He’d dig his nails into Pete’s thighs, and the pain, combined with the pleasure, would feel so fucking good.

 

He opened his eyes again and panted, open mouthed, watching as his abs flexed as he fucked his fist, and it was the thought of Patrick licking his lips, begging Pete to come on him that finally set Pete off.

 

When he had calmed down, he grabbed some toilet paper to wipe himself off, flushing the evidence down the drain, and tugging his boxers back up.

 

He left the bathroom, and, after a pause, grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a shirt to pull on, and when he got back to the bedroom, Patrick was still pink, and went even pinker when he saw Pete.

 

“So, um. Are you still tired then? Because uh. I did wake you up and all, because. Bathroom.” He cringed at how he sounded, before starting over. “Are you coming back to bed? Wait, shit, that sounds dirty, doesn’t it? I just meant, um. Sleep? Sleeping is good. Sleeping means quiet. I’m shutting up now.”

 

Pete laughed, a quiet, wheezy thing, and padded over to the bed, climbing back in and patting Patrick on his head.

 

“Yeah, sleeping is good. Go back to bed, and thank you for waking me up. Although maybe don’t bite me again. Kicking would work just fine.”

 

Patrick swallowed hard, and nodded, laying back down. “Will do,” he said weakly. “Um. Night Pete. Love you?”

 

Pete, without thinking about it, rolled over and kissed Patrick’s cheek, grinning at him fondly. “Love you too, babe. Sorry about about that. Night.”

  
Patrick rolled over and closed his eyes, trying to sleep, and felt Pete behind him, getting comfortable as he slowly fell back to sleep.


	95. Chapter 95

The problem was though, that Patrick wasn’t used to sleeping the day through. It would mean tossing and turning, or being overtired when he did wake up.

 

But he didn’t want to get out of bed. Pete was surprisingly warm, and definitely cuddly, and hey, he wasn’t hard anymore.

 

_Bad train of thought_ , Patrick scolded himself, squirming again. _Don’t even think about it_.

 

At least he wasn’t facing Pete. But still, that meant that Pete was pressed against his back, one of his legs slung over Patrick’s waist.

 

God only knew how Pete found that comfortable, because Patrick sure didn’t.

 

Still though, he wasn’t going to move, if only because it didn’t seem like Pete got a lot of sleep usually, and, well, being this close wasn’t that bad.

 

He squirmed just a bit, trying to grab his laptop, so he had something to do, and Pete tightened his arms, nuzzling his neck.

 

Patrick sighed, and tried tugging Pete’s arms off of him for a just a moment, and thankfully, it worked, allowing him to grab it, and set it on the bed carefully, settling back against Pete and allowing him to wrap back around him.

 

And then, Patrick immersed himself in GarageBand, thankful that Pete was a heavy sleeper as he worked, and hey, it was comforting, having someone wrapped around him.

 

When Pete finally woke up, it was to the steady sound of Patrick’s breathing, and the whirr of the laptop. He opened his eyes slowly, to adjust to the light coming off the screen, and nuzzled Patrick’s shoulder.

 

“Morning, ‘trick. What’re you doing?”

 

Patrick hummed, and moved to give Pete more room. “I’m just messing around, mostly. I couldn’t do much without disturbing you.”

 

“I’m sorry. I hope you weren’t too bored.”

 

“It’s fine, really. This was very nice, actually. You’re warm.”

 

Pete grinned and nuzzled his neck again. “It’s because I’m leeching off your warmth. You’re very cuddly. I love it.”

 

“Yeah, well. Shut up. I’ve decided that it’s too hot now, get off of me.”

 

Pete smacked a kiss on his cheek, before rolling off of him. “It’s not that it’s too hot, it’s that you’re too hot, ‘Trick. You’re too sexy for this room.”

 

Patrick stilled, and slowly closed his laptop, putting it on the bedside table, before rolling over and straddling Pete, to poke him.

 

“I hate you, shut up.”

 

Pete grinned up at him, folding his arms above his head. “No you don’t. You _love_  me, Patrick Stump.”

 

“Nope, not anymore. I hate you and your stupid smug face.”

 

“No, you love my ‘stupid smug face,’ and you love me. C’mon, we’re the only one’s here, you’re on top of me. You can admit it. I’m not gonna hold it against you.” Pete paused, and then added, “although, it’s not like it’d be hard to hold against you, seeing as you’re sitting on me.”

 

Patrick made a face, and flicked Pete’s ear, making him yelp. “Ow! Why must you hurt me like this?”

 

“Because you’re an asshole, and I’m training you not to be an asshole.”

 

Pete waggled his eyebrows. “You can train me if I can train you.”

 

Patrick went crimson, and hurriedly got off of Pete, to sit crosslegged on the bed, away from him.

 

Pete laughed, and then added, in a faux innocent voice, “what? I just meant teaching you about vampires, and training you in vampire etiquette. That’s all.”

 

“Right, that’s totally what you meant, you jerk. Stop mocking me.”

 

Pete sat up and frowned at Patrick. “Do you really think I’m mocking you? Because I’m not, really. I just think it’s cute when you’re flustered.”

 

Patrick poked Pete’s chest. “I don’t appreciate being teased about sex things. Just because you’re like, more experienced, or whatever, doesn’t mean you can make fun of me because I’m a virgin.”

 

“I’m not making fun of you because you’re a virgin. I applaude you for saving yourself for a person you care about, and I’ve tried to make sure you’re knowledgeable about sex. Patrick, I swear I’m not trying to make fun of you.”

 

Patrick unfroze just a bit, and nodded slightly. “Sorry, I’m just. On edge, I guess.”

 

He bit his lip, and Pete’s eyes flicked down to his mouth for just a moment, before he shook himself out of it.

 

“It’s okay, I can understand that. You’re nervous, because of the wedding and everything. Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?”

 

Patrick flushed a bit harder, and picked at a stray thread on the comforter. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, before he shook his head. “No, um. I think I’m good. I’ll ask, uh, if I do think of anything, though.”

 

Pete gave him an encouraging smile, and leaned over to pat Patrick’s shoulder. “Good, I’m glad.”

 

Patrick squirmed, and smiled hesitantly at him, before moving closer to the side of the bed. “Um, I’m gonna go shower, I think. So, you can go do whatever?”

 

Pete frowned, but shrugged. “Yeah, I have some things I could do. You have your shower, and eat. I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

Patrick hugged him swiftly, before going to gather his clothes slowly, and as soon as Pete left the room, shutting the door behind him, he went to the desk and grabbed the lube, hiding it in his clothes as he went to the bathroom and locked the door.

 

 


	96. Chapter 96

He took off his clothes slowly, biting his lip, and when he looked in the mirror he grimaced, turning away. He’d take a shower first, and help himself get relaxed, he decided, and he turned on the water, stepping in when it was warm enough.

 

He was hesitant, almost, to get out of shower, but after twenty minutes he couldn’t really wash his hair or body anymore; and it’s not as though he could shave, or anything.

 

He got out of the shower and dried off, and eyed the lube, as if it would attack him, before he took a deep breath, and grabbed it, fumbling it open with shaking fingers.

 

The only thing he really knew about it was that he definitely needed to coat his fingers liberally, because it’ll hurt otherwise. So he slicked up three of his fingers, till it was sliding down his palm.

 

The lube had been warmed up because of the steam in the bathroom, so he swallowed hard, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror as he put his foot up on the counter, sliding his fingers over his rim and shivering from the feel of it.

 

After another deep breath, he pressed one of his fingers into himself, his other hand bracing on the counter, so he wouldn’t fall. It’d be a bit embarrassing if he died with his fingers stuck in his ass. And a virgin. And without kissing Pete. Fuck.

 

He shook his head, and took another deep breath, biting his lip as he pressed the tip of his pointer finger into himself, and grimaced. It felt _weird_ , to be honest. Not nearly as good as porn made it look, at least.

 

He shifted his leg, and pressed it deeper, crooking his finger, to feel around for his prostate. He nearly gave up, was going to tell Pete that he didn’t want to have sex, but then he brushed against his prostate, and his knees nearly buckled.

 

He made a high, reedy noise, and dropped his face against the mirror, thankful for the cool feeling of it against his heated skin, as he kept rubbing against his prostate, his mouth dropping open to pant against the mirror, and he pulled out his finger to add another, hissing at the stretch.

 

He stayed slow, scissoring his fingers carefully, and he didn’t even try to find his prostate again, because it’d just distract him, keep him from doing what he actually wanted. And besides, it was almost a tease, and he could imagine Pete doing this to him, leaned over Patrick’s back to kiss his shoulder as he spread him open, laughing when Patrick whined because he just barely missed his prostate.

 

Patrick thought Pete would definitely be a dick tease, with how much he teased normally, and he bet he’d be so _awful_ , laughing at him, and when he got pissy Pete would just tell him to be a good boy, rub his prostate until Patrick’s knees gave out, face fell into the bed and moaned and begged to come, or get fucked.

 

Goddamn, he was kind of a slut, now that he was actually thinking of it.

 

He bit his lip harder, and added a third finger, whining quietly, and to distract himself, he rubbed against his prostate again, letting out a muttered ‘fuck.’

 

After a few more minutes of fingering himself, Patrick was moaning against the mirror, watching his mouth (red and swollen from being bitten) drop open and pant. It was kinda hot, actually.

 

Still though, he didn’t think he could come from just prostate stimulation alone, so he pulled his fingers out carefully, and tried to calm down. When his heart beat had slowed enough, he wrapped his hand around his cock, and jerked himself off quickly. There was no finesse to it, he just _needed_  to come, and after a few strokes he did, his head thumping against the mirror as he did.

 

When he had calmed down, he blushed, because of the mess he had created, and hurriedly shoved the lube into the back of the the drawer. He hesitated, before swiping a finger in the mess of come, and licked it--it wasn't the best tasting thing in the world, but he could deal, probably.

 

He wiped up the mess and flushed the toilet paper, before checking that he didn't look as if he just finger fucked himself. He looked guilty, flushed face and swollen lips, and he grimaced at the feeling of sweat, so he got back in the shower, to clean up again, hoping it'd take the obviousness out of what he'd done.

 

That didn't mean he wouldn't do it again though.

 

 


	97. Chapter 97

When he was dressed again he unlocked the bathroom door, making sure everything was cleaned up and the evidence of what he did wasn't visible, before he left.

 

He grabbed his hat and glasses from the desk, putting them on, before going over to the door and checking it; it was unlocked, so he stepped into Pete's room.

 

The room was dark, as was the bathroom, and he frowned, checking the outer door as well. It too was unlocked, so he stepped outside of it, and into the hallway.

 

The hallway was brightly lit at least, and he shut the door behind himself, no hesitation as he began walking, looking around curiously. It’s not that he wasn’t scared; if he met anyone he didn’t know, he’d be terrified, actually, but he felt like he knew enough people that he’d be okay.

 

He was just looking for Pete, he’d tell anyone who showed up, and he wandered the halls aimlessly, listening carefully so someone wouldn’t sneak up on him.

 

Of course, he underestimated how quiet and stealthy vampires could be, and he regretted it, when he heard someone move behind him, as if they wanted him to hear.

 

He muttered a quiet curse, and turned around, to see Bill, who was smiling at him.

 

“What’re you doing out of your room. Who let you out?”

 

Patrick stiffened at his tone, and shrugged. “The door was open. I’m looking for Pete, that’s all. Can you help me find him?”

 

“You’re lucky it was me who found you first. C’mon, I’ll take you to him. I was on my way there as well.”

 

They set off walking, Patrick having to take two steps to one of Bill’s. It was irritating. “So, uh. Why are you going to see Pete?”

 

“I have some information he needs, and I need to request something. Why are you going to see Pete?” Bill stopped walking to eye him, and Patrick could feel himself blush, hoping Bill couldn’t read what he just did on his face.

 

“Uh, I was doing something, and then I finished up, and he wasn’t in the room, so I went to find him so we could do something?”

 

Bill looked at him knowingly, and Patrick flushed even deeper, before he started walking again. “Right. I hope you had fun when you were...doing something. And I hope you and Pete do something fun too.”

 

Patrick made a face at his back. “Thanks, Bill.”

 

They were silent as they walked the rest of the way. Bill nodded at people they passed along the way, until finally they were at Pete’s office.

 

Bill stopped Patrick outside of it. “Can you wait here? I need to talk to Pete privately for a moment. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

 

Patrick nodded stiffly, and Bill knocked on the door, before entering the room, leaving Patrick alone in the hallway. He folded his arms over his chest protectively, and leaned against the wall to wait.

 

Pete was sitting at his desk when Bill entered, typing quickly on the computer, so Bill sat down to wait. After another minute, Pete finally looked up at him.

 

“Yes? What do you need?”

 

Bill smiled slightly, before growing more serious. “I have some more information on Blurryface. I had Tyler see if he could check in on Blurryface, by getting into his head, and he did. It ended with Tyler having a panic attack, and some interesting information.”

 

Pete waved his hand at Bill to continue, and he did. “Right, well. Blurryface is definitely working with the rebels; more specifically, he appears to have gained Shane Morris’ favor. And it appears that they know who Patrick is, and what he is to you. And they know how to get in.”

 

Pete looked up quickly, fists clenched on top of his desk. “What do you mean, they know how to get in?”

 

Bill crossed his legs and shrugged. “I don’t know. Tyler was a bit incoherent when I was speaking to him. At any rate though, I suggest that we close off all the secret passages, and not let anyone in or out of here until this issue is solved.”

 

“That’s not enough information to work with. I mean, we can close off the passages, but without proof, I can’t bar people from leaving.”

 

“Well what do you suggest I do about that? I already have a few spies among Morris’ men, but they haven’t been able to get close to Blurryface.”

 

“You said Tyler can get in his head, didn’t you? Make him do it again, see what he learns.”

 

Bill just looked at him. “I said he had a panic attack, didn’t I? I don’t think he’d be able to do it again.”

 

“What’d he see that freaked him out so much then? I mean, he’s normally nervous, but--”

 

“Blurryface was surrounded by bodies, and apparently having the time of his unlife frolicking. And, of course, he knew that Tyler was in his head. He addressed him directly.”

  
Pete frowned, and hit his desk. “Goddammit.” His eyes widened slowly as he came to a realization. “Lock Tyler up.” He suggested suddenly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started school again along with a new job so starting now I'm only going to be posting this once a day


	98. Chapter 98

Bill didn’t even blink. “Excuse me? Can I have a reason, before we lock him up in--where is it you wanted to lock him up?”

 

Pete waved his hand dismissively. “If Blurryface knows when Tyler’s in his head, that means he can get in Tyler’s head and spy on us. Maybe that’s the reason he knows ways in, and about Patrick. So we can lock him up, away from anywhere or anyone who can give him any information.”

 

“So you want me to authorize locking up someone with known depression and anxiety, for something we don’t know is true?” Bill said slowly, picking his words carefully.

 

“If it stops the information leak, and protects everyone in this house, yes. I’ve only let Patrick interact with a few people, and Tyler’s one of them, and seeing as Tyler is the reason Blurryface first saw Patrick…”

 

Bill sighed. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, think about the repercussions, not just for Tyler, but for his roommates and friends--”

 

“He’ll be fine,” Pete said dismissively. “Put him in one of the unoccupied rooms at the top of the house, where we used to hold people.”

 

Bill finally lost his composure, gaping at Pete. “I--I’m not sure I like how you’re acting, right now. You’re not thinking properly, and it’s worrying me. You honestly want to lock someone at the top of the house, when they’ve got depression? All for a flimsy excuse to protect Patrick?”

 

Pete frowned at him. “You’re the one who suggested we give him over to Blurryface if things aren’t going our way. Why are you suddenly changing your mind?”

 

“Because I can understand why I’d want to do that, but you? I thought you’d be better than that, especially what you’ve been through.”

 

Pete frowned even harder. “It’d only be for a bit, until we solved this problem, and the leak, and if we find out it’s not him, we let him out. And don’t you dare bring up my past. It has nothing to do with this. This is about protecting everyone here. And if it means locking one person up--”

 

Bill stood, and brushed out his pants. “Fine. I’ll go get him then, and put him somewhere--not in one of the higher floors, if he’s alone, mind you, but I assure you he will be locked up. Goodbye Peter.” How he managed to put some much disapproval into those two words, Pete had no idea.

 

Bill opened the door, and then paused. “You can go on in Patrick.” He looked back in the room, at Pete. “You know, if you want to protect Patrick so much, perhaps you shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked. Just a tip.”

 

Bill left before Pete could respond, and Patrick slipped in the door, smiling slightly at Pete. “Hey. So, uh, what was that all about?”

 

Pete attempted a smile, and shook his head. “Just some stuff, that’s all. So, uh. How’d you get here?”

 

Patrick hugged himself and shrugged. “The doors were open after I showered, and you weren’t in your room, so I thought I’d come find you. Is that not okay?” He looked at Pete, almost challengingly.

 

“Well, uh, I’d appreciate it if you stayed in the room unless you had an escort. I’m glad Bill was the one who found you first, that’s all I’m saying.”

 

Patrick narrowed his eyes, and straightened up. “What do you mean by that? Do you think I’m in danger or something? I have a right to know.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing. I’d just rather you didn’t wander around, that’s all.”

 

“You can’t keep me locked up like that all the time you know. I have a right to get out.”

 

“Yeah, well, if you need to stretch your legs you can do it in your room. You’re in there for your own protection, and I’m sorry I didn’t lock up when I left.”

 

Patrick nodded just a tad. “Right then,” he said in a cool tone. “Well, if it’s for my own protection, I’ll just go back there and bar the door. Cry if anyone tries to get in. You know, act like the damsel in distress you seem to think I am.”

 

Patrick spun on his heel and walked to the door, yanking it open, as Pete scrambled up to follow him.

 

“Let me walk you back, at least.”

 

“Why, because I can’t take care of myself?”

 

“No, so I can lock the doors behind you.”

 

“Great! You can keep those doors locked tonight then as well. Don’t bother coming in.”

 

Pete sighed, “Patrick, c’mon. I just want to protect you.”

 

“From what? If you don’t explain, I really won’t care. I think you’re just being a dick right now.”

 

“I’ll tell you when we get into your room, okay?”

  
Patrick just nodded tightly, and they didn’t speak until Pete had locked them in. Patrick spun to look at him. “Well? Tell me what’s going on.”


	99. Chapter 99

Pete took a deep breath. “The person who you thought was Tyler--do you remember him?”

 

Patrick blinked, some of the fight going out of him. “Yes? You said his name was Blurryface, right?”

 

Pete nodded. “Yes, it is. He’s aligned himself with the rebels, and wants us dead. And since you talked to Blurryface, he knows about you, and knows about why you’re here.” He paused. “We think he’s seeing things, and hearing information from us, through Tyler.”

 

“Tyler? You think he’s spying on you?” He sounded confused as he said it, and he dropped his arms to his sides.

 

Pete hesitated, before nodding again. “Not intentionally,” he said. “But the fact of the matter is, I’ve only introduced you to a few of my closest friends here, and he’s the only one who knew about Blurryface, besides Josh, and he has a connection with him he can’t control. It’s our only option at this point.”

 

“Only option? What did you do to him?”

 

“He’s fine,” Pete said, stepping closer to touch Patrick’s shoulder reassuringly. Patrick sidestepped away from him.

 

“That doesn’t tell me anything. What did you do to him?”

 

Pete sighed, and dropped his hand. “I’ve just made sure he can’t overhear anything, accidentally or intentionally, that’s all.”

 

“So you’ve locked him up somewhere,” Patrick said flatly. “Is that why you said he might not be able to be the ringbearer?”

 

Pete put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I don't know. But it's not like I'm just doing this for you. If he's somewhere no one can get to him, then he can't get nabbed by Blurryface either."

 

"Where no one can get him, seriously? That's bullshit. He needs to interact with people."

 

"Not until this is taken care of. Patrick, I have good reasons for doing this."

 

Patrick glared him down, crossing his arms across his chest. "No, you don't. You don't even know if it's his fault! If you don't want him overhearing things, just lock him up in his room, you know, with Josh and them? It'll keep him calm."

 

Pete stared at him. "His room is near other’s rooms. He might overhear something.”

 

Patrick threw his hands into the air. “Well then, move them all to a different room. It’s not fair for you to punish someone who isn’t _doing_  anything.”

 

“You don’t understand. I’m trying to protect everyone in this house. This is for everyone’s safety.”

 

“Not his! God, just--what do I have to do to make you understand that you’re _wrong_  right now?”

 

Pete scrubbed a hand over his face. “Why are you so upset about this? It’s not like it’s hurting him.”

 

“Except you really, _really_  are. You’re acting like Bill was, when he first turned you. Is that what you want?”

 

“Except I’m doing this to protect people! Bill was just an asshole.”

 

“Well, you’re being an asshole now. Either you don’t lock him up alone, or you’re sleeping alone tonight.”

 

Pete gaped at him. “You’re serious about this. Really? You barely even know the guy.”

 

“I know that he’s probably in over his head, and scared, and you’re being a dickhead by trying to isolate him. That’s like, against every rule of ‘how to be a good leader.’ That’s what makes people go over to the dark side. Seriously.”

 

Pete grabbed his hair and groaned loudly. “Fuck it, fine. I’ll get another room set up, and ask him and his roommates to move into that. Does that make you happy?”

 

“It’s acceptable, for now. But you’re still a dick.”

 

“I know, I know. I’ll call Bill and let him know the plan. And I’ll apologize, okay?”

 

Patrick softened just enough to let a hint of a smile on his face. “Okay. Thank you.”

 

Pete came over and quickly kissed Patrick’s cheek, jumping back so he wouldn’t be hit. “I’ll be back later. I need to go make that phone call. Love you babe.”

 

Patrick swiped at him half-heartedly. “Yeah, whatever. You too. Bye Pete.”

 

 


	100. Chapter 100

Pete grinned at him, and left, making sure to lock both doors as he did. As soon as he was out though, his grin died, and he pulled out his phone, and called Bill.

 

“Yes? What is it? Before you ask, I haven’t asked him to move yet. Are you changing your mind?”

 

Pete made a face at his phone. “Only slightly. Make sure one of the bigger suites is made up, so it’s not just Tyler who can stay there. Ask his roommates to join him as well.”

 

“Let me guess; Patrick chewed you out for being a dick and you changed your ways. God, I love him. Can you marry him soon, so he’s my son-in-law already?”

 

“I’ll marry him whenever I want, and he wouldn’t be your son-in-law. You’re not my mother or father.”

 

“But I am your sire. Don’t be rude now, you’re just testy that Patrick has you whipped. But I’ll go do what you want. Is that all?”

 

Pete pulled the phone away from his ear and flipped it off, “yes, it is.” He paused. “Wait, no. Make up the suite, and then send Tyler to my office so we can talk.”

 

“You’ve got it,” Bill said cheerfully. “I do have a question though.”

 

Pete sighed. “What is it Bill?”

 

“It’s nothing serious; I was just wondering if you wanted a whip for a wedding present, or if Patrick’s already got that base covered.”

 

Pete didn’t even answer, he just hung up the phone, and shoved it in his pocket. A few minutes later though, it buzzed.

 

It was a text from Bill, which only said, ‘I’m taking that as a ‘yes, buy this.’”

 

Pete snapped a quick picture of him flipping the bird, and sent it to Bill, before shutting his phone off.

 

Somewhere, Bill was cackling to himself, scaring those around him. It was worth it.

 

When Pete got to his office, Tyler was already waiting outside the door. It looked like he had just came from the music room, judging by the fact that he was carrying his ukelele.

 

Pete sighed, and invited him in. Tyler perched on the edge of a seat nervously. “So, uh. Bill said you wanted to talk to me?”

 

“Yes, I did. I wanted to talk to you about Blurryface.”

 

Tyler hunched, and nodded. “What about him,” he asked, sounding wary.

 

“Can you tell if he’s in your head, or do you have no idea?” Pete asked bluntly, staring Tyler down.

 

Tyler twitched, and avoided his eyes. “I don’t know? I don’t know if it’s because he’s never tried, or if I’ve never noticed. I’m sorry.”

 

Pete sighed. “Right. Well, if you don’t know, then this is a problem. Luckily though, I have a solution.”

 

“Are you going to kick me out?”

 

Pete shook his head. “No. You’ll still be in the house, you’d just be under isolation. And before you say anything, it’ll just be you moving rooms, along with your roommates, if they want to join you. It’d be a suite, with two bedrooms, and you’d be there for your protection, as well as everyone else’s.”

 

Tyler nodded, and moved his hands under his thighs. “Ah. Would they be allowed out? Because it’s not fair to them, if they’re locked up just because I’m possibly being eavesdropped on.”

 

“In that case, we’d have to do put a lock on one of the bedroom’s door. Make sure if they can get out, you can’t.”

 

Tyler nodded again, and smiled slightly at Pete. “That works. Thank you, Pete. If I can do anything, anything at all to help, please let me know.”

 

“Don’t say anything if you don’t mean it,” Pete cautioned.

 

Tyler nodded, and hesitated. “Thank you again. I--if I can help, I really do want to though. I don’t like him anymore than you do--I like him even less, actually.”

 

Pete nodded slightly. “I know. Just get your stuff together, and ask your roommates if they want to do the same. I’m having the suite set up now.”

 

Tyler nodded, and stood, clutching his ukelele protectively. “Thank you again. Um. If you do have to have food sent up, keep in mind that most of us only drink coconut water. Blood is. Not appealing. For some good reasons.”

 

Pete made a note of that, and nodded again. “You got it. We’ll probably stock up a fridge for you then. Take care.”

 

“Thank you,” Tyler said again, before backing out of the room. When the door closed, both of them heaved a sigh of relief.

 

 


	101. Chapter 101

Of course, Pete still had work to do, so he opened his computer and began to type, replying to emails from both humans and vampires alike; one person was having a fight with their neighbor, and he had to mediate that, while also trying to set up a meeting with the rebels to try and come to a compromise.

 

And then things got weird.

 

He got an email from a junk address, and, being curious, he opened it. The only thing it said was, ‘you have a lovely fiance.’

 

He was instantly suspicious, and copied the email address, trying to find out who had sent it; his search turned up nothing, however.

 

He called Bill, who answered nearly instantly. “Are you going to apologize for hanging up so rudely before?” He asked, right off the bat.

 

“No, I’m not sorry about that. We do have a problem though. I just recieved an email about Patrick; I don’t know who sent it, or where it came from, but this could mean a breach.”

 

Bill muttered a curse, and there was a sound of his muffled speech as he excused himself, and started walking. “I’ll be right there. Let me see if I can get an IP check on where the email came from. It might narrow the search down.”

 

Pete shook his head, knowing Bill couldn’t see it. “I already tried that. It seems like they’re going through a shit ton of other networks, to hide their own. Goddammit.”

 

The next moment, Pete’s door opened, and he cut off the call, as Bill slid into the room, and locked the door.

 

“What did the message say?” He said instantly. “Was there anything attached?”

 

Pete turned his computer over to Bill, who quickly skimmed the short email, before straightening back up. “Well that’s ominous. Is that the only message you’ve gotten like this?”

 

Pete nodded. “Yeah, it is. Thankfully there were no attached files. I’m not sure how I would’ve reacted to that.”

 

Bill nodded, and patted his shoulder sympathetically. “I can understand that. Why don’t you give Patrick a security detail then? It doesn’t have to be big. Hell, it could even just be you. But as long as he’s never alone, nothing can happen.”

 

Pete nodded slowly, before sighing, “true. But he’s not going to like that. He’s just barely accepted my apology for the Tyler thing.”

 

Bill seated himself of Pete’s desk, and just looked at him. “Then don’t tell him it’s a security detail. Say you want him close to introduce him to people, or get him ready for everyone he’ll meet at the wedding. Or even just get Joe and Andy to stay with him, claim you thought he might be bored. It’s that easy.”

 

“I really think you’re underestimating Patrick’s intelligence when it comes to issues like this.”

 

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. The fact of the matter is though, that when you’re not working, you’re usually in your room with Patrick, and Joe, and Andy. Just bring your laptop with you and enough blood or whatever you want to eat, and hang out. Call it a pre-honeymoon, or getting to know Patrick.”

 

Pete sighed, and massaged his temples. “I guess you’re right.” He paused. “Do you think I should switch rooms? I mean, everyone knows where Patrick and I are right now--”

 

“I think you’d be fine with just putting more locks on the door. Get a hedgewitch to charm your rooms so only certain people can get in, or something. But we already have to move one room, we don’t need to move another.”

 

Pete sighed and nodded, holding his head in his hands. “You’re right. And I’ll think of some way to keep Patrick close. If I get any more messages I’ll let you know. You see if your guys know anything about Patrick. Drop some hints, find out if the rebels have any thoughts on that matter, as well as Blurryface.”

 

Bill nodded, and touched his shoulder. “We’ll find out who sent the email, and take care of Blurry, before your wedding. Just leave it to me, go back to Patrick.”

 

Pete peered up at Bill through his fingers and smiled, just a bit. “Here’s hoping.” He sighed, and locked his laptop. “Well, I’ll see what I can do with Patrick. You go do whatever you do.”

 

Bill cocked an eyebrow at him, and nodded. “I’m ignoring that slight on me, because you’re tired. Now shoo, go back to your blushing bride to be.”

 

Pete made a face, and stood, grabbing his laptop. “Thanks ever so much. Bye Bill, don’t stay up too late.”

 

Bill tilted his head in acknowledgement, following Pete out of his office and allowing him to lock up. “Will do. Now I have to go rope a few people into getting a suite ready.”

 

Pete muttered a ‘good luck’ and both went their separate ways; Bill to nab Gabe and Travie to help, and then get Tyler moved, and Pete to try and sweeten Patrick’s mood more.

 

 


	102. Chapter 102

He went to Gabe’s room first, knocking on the door; of course, it was crowded, as usual, and Victoria answered the door, wearing what appeared to be one of Gabe’s sweatshirts.

 

“Hey, babe, your other lover’s here.” Victoria called back into the room, and there was some muffled thumping as Gabe rolled out of bed, and stepped over people, to wrap around Victoria and grin at Bill.

 

“Hey, Bill, ‘sup?”

 

“I need you and Travie’s help--actually, everyone in your room could chip in and make it a lot easier on us.”

 

Gabe dropped his head on Victoria’s and pursed his lips. “What’s in it for me?”

 

“I don’t wake you up at noon every day for the rest of your life. Also, you’ll get a brand new room that you can do whatever you want with; including adding a wall to wall bed.”

 

“Well, I’m in,” Victoria said, before untangling from Gabe to go back into the room. “Your bed can’t fit all of us right now, and I’m tired of having to drag Greta and I back to our room in the morning.”

 

Gabe pouted back at her, before turning to Bill and shrugging. “Yeah, okay. I’m in. Travie’s here too, so you don’t need to hut him down. Now what do you need us to do?”

 

“Excellent, I was afraid I had to resort to blackmail. You’re all going to help me take Tyler and his roommate’s stuff up to one of the unused suites, away from everything else--Pete’s orders.” He paused for a moment, to let it sink in. “And then you can have Tyler’s room. Unlike this room, it’s actually made for more than two people.”

 

Gabe grinned at him, and opened the door further, letting Bill look in to see all the people, in various states of undress. “Right, all of you get dressed, we’re doing a community service. Bill said we get a bigger room if we do it.”

 

There were a few mumbled protests, but everyone got up, and dressed, and soon they piled out of the room, Bill’s eyes widening as each person came out.

 

“How many people can you even fit in there?”

 

“Twenty, on a good day. Now lead us to Tyler’s new room! Half of us can set that place up, and the rest of us can go help those four move out.”

 

Bill lead the group up the two flights of stairs, to the fourth floor, which was mostly unoccupied, Gabe and Travie right on his trail.

 

Gabe whistled. “Damn, what did Tyler and his dates do to deserve this kind of isolation?”

 

Bill shrugged, and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “I’ll explain later.”

 

When they got in the room though, they were all a bit surprised. “Is this what the upstairs offers? Damn, this is pretty nice, I’m jealous.”

 

It was, for a soon to be isolation room; A kitchenette, and living room, with a bathroom off to the side, and what looked like two bedrooms.

 

Bill shrugged again. “It’s okay, I suppose. I need you and them to make sure there are beds and everything like that, and while some of you are doing that, I’ll collect Tyler. And then you can have his room, okay?”

 

“Good enough for me. Right, okay. You guys--Ryland, Suarez, Nate, Victoria, and Greta. You’re in charge of checking things out in here. That means checking if the locks work, making sure everything’s not dusty, just cleaning the place up and making sure nothing bad’s in here. Bill, Travie, and me’ll go down and get those four up here.”

 

They nodded, and spilt up to wander around the room, while Gabe and Travie followed Bill out, and down to Tyler’s room, where Bill knocked on the door.

 

 


	103. Chapter 103

Josh opened the door, and narrowed his eyes, blocking the doorway. “Yes?” He asked coolly.

 

Gabe and Travie glanced at each other, while Bill’s expression didn’t change. “I’m sure Tyler told you about the move. Have you been grabbing what you want to take?”

 

Josh nodded, his expression chilly. “We have, yeah. You’re here to help us move to--where were you going to move us, again? The basement? Corner of the fourth floor? Outside?”

 

Bill proved to be unintimidated, however. “Yes, actually. Corner of the fourth floor. It’s bigger than this room, by quite a bit. Now are you going to let us in, or just going to glare?”

 

Josh scowled, but opened the door further, to reveal Jenna, Tyler, and Debby folding up clothes, and packing away blankets. Josh’s drums were already disassembled.

 

“You all ready to leave?” Bill asked, glancing around the room.

 

Tyler nodded, and grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his back as Jenna and Debby finished packing their own bags. “Yeah, we are.” He paused, worrying his lip. “Are there new locks on the doors, and stuff?”

 

“I’m taking care of that, don’t worry. Now we’ll grab some of your stuff, and hopefully get it all up there in one or two trips.”

 

They came into the room and grabbed what they could, and soon enough the only things left were Josh’s drums and a few more bags.

 

They all trooped out, Bill leading, with Josh right behind him, and Travie and Gabe following behind the rest of them.

 

When they came up to the room the other five had managed to fix up the place, and vanished. (Gabe muttered something about them being naughty--no one asked, and truth be told, no one _wanted_  to ask).

 

Bill motioned around the room, “well, is this going to work for you?”

 

Tyler glanced around, and nodded, “yeah, of course. I don’t see why not.” He peeked into the two bedrooms, and dropped his stuff in the doorway of the smaller room. “So, uh, you guys can put your stuff in that room.”

 

Jenna frowned, and glanced between the rooms. “Why do you have to use that room? We could all probably fit in this room.”

 

Bill coughed slightly, to get their attention. “I assure you, it’s for his protection. Pete’s orders.”

 

Josh frowned at him, and crossed his arms. “So even if we did stay in here with him, he’d still have to be locked up?” He demanded. “How is that fair?”

 

“Not all the time. Just when you wanted to leave the room, and even then, he’d be able to get out of that room after five minutes of you being gone. Really, I’ve already thought this through.” He paused, for emphasis. “Besides that, what you four do in here isn’t any of our business. If you want him to sleep with you most of the time, you can.”

 

Gabe piped up from near the door, “I’d like it to be _my_  business,” and Travie elbowed him, shaking his head.

 

“Don’t even try. You’re outnumbered and they have sharp nails and teeth.”

 

Gabe grumbled, and held his hands up defensively, taking a step back. “That was a joke. I already have more than enough people to keep track of. But if you’re interested…”

 

They all stared at him, until he coughed, and glanced away. “Right then. So, I’m gonna take Travie and go grab the rest of your stuff now.”

  
They quickly left the room, shutting the door behind them, leaving Bill alone with the four of them.


	104. Chapter 104

“Well then, I’ll show you how to use the locks.” He motioned them over to Tyler’s chosen room, and pointed at the lock on the outside of the door. “It’s timed, so when you need to leave--all of you, besides him, that is--you just click this lock, and it’d open up five minutes after you leave. And there’s another lock on the inside of the door, if Tyler feels the need to lock himself in.”

 

“And what if we have to get in? Like, is there a backup to that lock for him?” Debby asked, standing close to Jenna.

 

“I’ll give you three the password to it, when Tyler can’t hear it. Once again, for security reasons.”

 

Josh bristled, but slumped when Tyler touched his back carefully, and he sighed. “Fine, that sounds reasonable. You going to lock us in now?”

 

Bill moved towards the door and peered out, then glanced back at them. “No, not yet. Not all of your stuff is here, for one, and for another, we need to make sure you have blood in here.”

 

Tyler twitched, and shoved his hands in his pockets, and didn’t say anything. Thankfully, Jenna came to his rescue. “We don’t really drink blood that often. We prefer the coconut water. For, um. Reasons.”

 

William eyed them and nodded, and pulled out his phone to tap a message on it quickly. “Right then. I’ll have it changed before they bring it up here. Anything else you need?”

 

They looked at each other, and slowly shook their heads. William smiled. “Excellent. Well, Tyler, if you’ll just go in there for a quick moment while I tell them the code? The walls are soundproofed, so that’ll take care of you overhearing.”

 

Tyler took a deep breath and nodded, going into the room and shutting the door behind him, letting it lock. Bill took the other three out into the hallway, voice dropping to a murmur, so they had to lean in to hear. “The passcode is 211626. If you need you can call me and I’ll change it for you, but for now that should work.They glanced at each other and shook their head, and so Bill nodded and smiled. "Excellent. Well, Tyler, if you could just wait here and I'll tell them the passcode to your door."

 

Tyler swallowed hard, and nodded, glancing at the door before walking into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. When the door locked, Bill motioned the other three out into the hallway.

 

"Right, well, the passcode is 211626. If you need it changed you can call me to change it for you. And before you ask, the rooms are soundproofed--have been for a while. So Tyler wouldn't have heard that."

 

Josh crossed his arms and frowned, until Jenna placed her hand on his shoulder, and spoke. "Thank you, Bill. I appreciate this--we appreciate this. Just. Please find whoever you need to find to finish this? Tyler really doesn’t...do well, in confined spaces.”

 

Bill gave her a gentle smile, and nodded. “I can understand that. I promise you, we’re working on it, and you’ll all be out of here before the wedding, even.”

 

Jenna relaxed, and smiled back. “Thank you. We all appreciate it. Um, we should probably let Tyler out though. Since he doesn’t really need to be in there right now, and all.”

 

Bill nodded, and let them back into the room, as Gabe and Travie came back, carrying the drums and the other bags with them. Following behind them was Hayley, carrying two bags full of coconut water. Gabe and Travie set down their items carefully where no one would step on them, as Hayley looked around the room. She beamed when she saw them, eyes flicking over to where Debby was letting Tyler out.

“Hey, you guys. Brought your food. This is a pretty nice place.”

 

Jenna raised her hand in greeting, and Tyler blinked when he saw her, getting out of the room, but waved slightly.

 

“Hey, Hayley. How’d you get roped into bringing us that?”

 

“Lost a game of rock, paper, scissors,” she replied, chipper. “I picked paper, and Halsey picked bomb.”

 

Josh snorted, covering his grin with his hand as Hayley pouted up at him. “Don’t mock me, it’s a very serious game. If only I had known we were playing freestyle. I would’ve kicked her ass with like, a bomb shelter or something.”

 

Debby had to giggle at that. “A bomb shelter? How do you make that with your hands?”

  
Hayley wrinkled her nose and dropped the bags on the floor, putting her hands in the traditional rock, paper, scissors pose. “Okay, so you just--from here you like, make your other hand form a cup base? Except upside down. So it kinda looks like a house--well, bomb shelter. I totally would’ve won if I had used that.”


	105. Chapter 105

Bill raised his eyebrow, and said dryly, “fascinating. Well, why don’t you put away the bottles and then go back to Halsey and make sure she knows you can beat her this time.”

 

When Bill wasn’t looking Hayley made a face and flipped him off, before grabbing the bags again and carrying them over to the fridge and putting the bottles away, before coming back and giving Jenna and Debby a quick squeeze.

 

“You four have fun up here,” she said, and she winked at them, before she left, smacking Gabe’s ass on her way out.

 

Gabe grinned at her back fondly. “God, I love her. Can I keep her?”

 

Travie punched his arm. “God no. She’d devour you in seconds.” He paused. “Actually, you know what, you might like that so nevermind.”

 

Gabe pouted, and sighed. “Ah well. I don’t need anyone else to be added to my collection.”

 

Travie snorted, and leaned back against the wall. “Right. How many people do you have in your ‘collection,’ by the way?”

 

Gabe frowned, and looked thoughtful, counting on his fingers. “Well, there’s you and Bill, Ryland, Alex, Nate, Victoria, uhh--Greta counts, probably--”

 

“Nah, Greta will kill you if she hears you say that.”

 

Gabe ignored him. “Let’s see. Pete--well, not anymore, but he used to count--and, um--”

 

Bill sighed, and rolled his eyes. “That’s enough, Gabe. Keep it to yourself, and you both can leave. I’ll be out soon.”

 

Gabe and Travie snapped out a quick salute, and left, Gabe tossing a goodbye over his shoulder. They watched them both leave mutely, before Bill bounced on his heels. “Well, you have food, and know how to get out of here, and everything else, so I’ll take my leave as well. If you need anything you can just text me.” He paused, and eyed Tyler’s phone, until he handed it over.

 

“Thank you. I expect I’ll see some of you later. Tyler--for your sake, I’ll try to get this all dealt with quickly.”

 

Tyler rubbed his arm, and nodded, avoided his eye. “Thanks. Bye, Bill.”

 

Bill nodded at all of them, and left, shutting the door behind him. Tyler shuffled his feet.

 

“If you want you guys could go down to the music room, or something.”

 

“And you to clean up in here? No thank you. We’ll help in here, and stay in today, and tonight. It doesn’t bother us.” Debby said, pulling him into a hug.

 

He smiled slightly at her, and squeezed back, before stepping out of her hold. “Right. Let’s do this then.”

 


	106. Chapter 106

Pete, on the other hand, had gone back to his room to try and appease Patrick. He knew he was already upset, both about the whole Tyler incident, and the whole locking him away thing; which, in Pete’s opinion, he shouldn’t be upset about. He should already  _know_  he was locked up for his own protection, from Blurryface and from some of the nastier, or hungrier, vampires who lived in the house.

 

(Which, Pete really needed to talk to them about. If they thought it was cool to eat humans, then he’d definitely have a problem with them; the whole point of the treaty was to reassure the humans that they _didn’t_  want to eat them. Just drink their [state mandated, pre-packaged] blood.)

 

When he got to the room, Patrick was strumming absently on his guitar, humming along with it and pausing every so often to scribble something in his open notebook. Pete was starstruck. He leaned against the doorway, not announcing his presence so could he watch Patrick work. He was just too _cute_ , and Pete watched him, shifting to get more comfortable, but, of course, when he shifted Patrick looked up, startled, and flashed him a quick smile.

 

“So,” he said brightly. “Have you apologized to Tyler yet?”

 

Pete couldn’t suppress his wince, and Patrick’s smile quickly turned to a frown. “Um. No? He’s just been settling in and all, so I didn’t get a chance to.”

 

Patrick set his guitar down and stared Pete down. “Are you saying you haven’t seen Tyler since I asked you to apologize to him?”

 

Pete shifted on his feet, and coughed lightly. “Yes?”

 

“Then what have you been doing since I last saw you?”

 

“Telling Bill to help Tyler settle in?” Patrick just gave him a look, and Pete deflated. “Yes, okay, I’ll apologize later today, okay?”

 

“Better be soon, because you’re not sleeping in here if you don’t apologize to Tyler.”

 

“I swear I’ll do it soon. I just needed to talk to you about something.”

 

Patrick blinked, and folded his arms. “Well? What exactly is it that you wanted to talk about with me?”

 

“I was thinking that maybe Joe and Andy could chill with us more often than they do. You know, like, get them a drawer in my room, they can chill--”

 

“You’re a _really_  bad actor, you know that? Why do you _really_  want them to stay over? Is it the same reason you’re locking Tyler up? Or why you’re locking _me_  up?”

 

“I’m not locking you up! I’m just asking you to not leave the room unless someone’s with you. And, um. Having people stay with you, so you don’t get hurt.”

 

“What exactly is going to hurt me? Maybe if you _talk to me_  I’ll be more inclined to _listen_  to you, and obey.”

 

“Why can’t you just trust that I’m doing this for your own good?”

 

“Why can’t you _talk_  to me like I’m an equal and not some stupid kid? You’re marrying me for God’s sake, fucking _act_  like it.”

 

“I _am_  acting like it! I’m trying to protect you so you aren’t like, kidnapped, or tortured, or bitten. Just trust me dammit.”

 

Patrick flinched back, and took a deep, calming breath. “Okay, so, you’ve told me that, now how about you tell me what exactly is going on?”

 

  
“Tyler has a connection to Blurryface, that he can tap into, and it’s possible that Blurryface can tap into it too. That’s why he’s been put away, for his safety and everyone else’s. If Blurry taps into the connection, he can get information about you, or how to get in here, which we don’t want.”

 

Patrick didn’t say anything for one long moment, before he sighed. “Okay. So, do you know where he is, or what his plan is?”

 

“No, we don’t. We do know that he’s teamed up with Shane Morris, though. He’s an asshole, I don’t know how he managed to make himself leader of a faction of rebels, but he is, and they’ve been causing trouble ever since.”

 

“Well that’s something, right?” Patrick said, trying to be encouraging. “If you know who he’s working with, you can narrow down where he could be, and stop him in his tracks.”

 

“It’s still _hard_. Especially since we have to look for him, make sure he doesn’t _know_  we’re looking for him, and we have to keep everyone in this house safe and protected, which isn’t easy, because he’s shown an interest in this house solely because Tyler’s here.”

 

Patrick sat up straighter, and looked at Pete squarely. “I hope you’re not implying things would be better if you just gave him Tyler.”

  
Pete hesitated, which told Patrick more than enough. “Oh _no_ , don’t even try. If you do that, I’ll kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those people who told me about the person plagiarizing me on wattpad! I've contacted them, and if they don't reply to me in a day, I'll report them.


	107. Chapter 107

“I wasn’t gonna! It’s just an option, that’s all. Tyler said it’d be okay.”

 

Pete wasn’t exactly _sure_  if Tyler had said that, but, hey, if it got Patrick off his back…

 

“I don’t care if Tyler said it was okay. If I said it was okay for you to, I dunno, throw me to the wolves, would you do it?”

 

Pete straightened up, looking offended. “Of course not, that’s dangerous.”

 

“Well so is sending Tyler back to a person--er, _vampire_ , who obviously makes him uncomfortable.”

 

“You don’t know that it does. Has he talked to you about it or something?” Pete sounded annoyed, and looked like he was going to get overprotective, and Patrick rolled his eyes.

 

“No, I haven’t talked to him. The last time I did it was when we were at the grocery store, and I could _tell_  he was upset when he mentioned meeting someone who looked like him. It’s not that hard to connect the dots from that.”

 

Pete made a face, and sighed, rubbing his face wearily. “Yeah, well, that’s why he’s locked up. For his protection and for everyone else’s. Apparently Blurryface can get into his mind, possibly, and one of his powers is controlling people. We definitely don’t need that to happen.” He paused, and settled on the bed next to Patrick, who rolled his eyes and squirmed so they’d both be comfortable.

 

“Thanks. And, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the _only_  one locked up. I’m putting the house under lockdown, no one gets in or out, until this issue is dealt with. I just want you under more protection than that.”

 

Pete held up his finger to stop Patrick from talking. “It’s not that I don’t think you can’t protect yourself, it’s just that I don’t wanna take any chances. Not only cause I don’t want you hurt because I love you, but also the treaty--you get hurt, it’s on my head, and that means war. We’d be fighting off vamps and humans, and I don’t want that.”

 

Patrick seemed to understand, and he nodded slightly. “Okay, okay. But can we back up to the part where you said Blurry had powers? Because I haven’t heard of that before.”

 

Pete looked slightly guilty. “Yeah, well, it uh. Doesn’t come up in conversations, that often. Not many humans know, and not all vampires know about it. So, it’s expected that you wouldn’t.”

 

“Well? Do you have any powers?”

 

Pete hesitated, long enough for Patrick to tell that he was lying when he shook his head.

 

“Alright, I call bullshit. Seriously, why don’t you tell me what your like, superpower, or whatever is? I won’t tell anyone, and we’re getting married, and all, so.”

 

“It’s--it’s not a _pretty_  power, or anything like that. Blurry can get into people’s minds and control them, while Bill can teleport, and Brendon can make people do his--I hesitate to use the word ‘bidding’ but that’s what it is--with his voice. My power’s pretty much only made for destruction.”

 

Patrick was quiet, watching and waiting for him to continue, and Pete ran his hand through his hair, agitated. “I can--it’s hard to explain. I can, if I need to, hit someone--I haven’t used this on a human, by the way, so I don’t know if it’d work then, but it does work on vampires--anyways, I can hit someone with my palm, and burn them--not enough to turn them to ash, but enough to make them dead. It’s like a one hit kill, is the best way I can explain it.”

  
Patrick was silent for one, long moment, before he shoved Pete back onto the bed and climbed into his lap. Pete’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Patrick’s hips to steady him.


	108. Chapter 108

“Whoa, hey, what’s this all about? I thought you were waiting for marriage. Unless you don’t wanna wait anymore, that’s fine too.”

 

Patrick promptly dug his nails into Pete’s arm, making him yelp.

 

“You’re an asshole,” he said, voice full of affection. “And I don’t want to sleep with you before the wedding, dickhead. I’m trying to be comforting. You looked upset.”

 

“Oh. So like, is this going to happen every time? Because I can get used to this.”

 

Patrick groaned, and shoved him again, moving out of his lap. “You ruined the moment, congrats. Now go apologize to Tyler, dumbass.”

 

Pete made an obnoxious sounding whine, and lunged for Patrick, dragging him into a hug. “No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin it. Please continue comforting me over my angst over my evil superpower.”

 

Patrick shoved at his arms, and kicked Pete in the stomach, until Pete crashed off the bed, barely stopping himself from hitting his head on the floor. As soon as he did though, Patrick peered over the bed, looking horrified, and Pete let out a pitiful sounding moan.

 

“Holy--are you okay? I didn’t mean for that to happen--”

 

“No, I don’t think I am,” Pete said, sounding shocked. “I mean, I did just fall for you, after all.” He then started cackling, loudly, obviously proud of his joke.

 

Patrick’s worried look soon transformed into a scowl, and he dropped off the bed to straddle Pete’s stomach, making him let out a wheeze. “You’re an awful dick, you know that?”

 

“But you _love_  me, and my ‘awful dick,” and he grinned, a raunchy look on his face as he ground his hips up into Patrick, who immediately blushed bright pink and punched him hard, before scrambling off of him, flustered.

 

“No, I don’t think I do. Now seriously, go apologize to Tyler, or I’m blocking my door with a chair to make sure you can’t get in, asshole.”

 

Pete groaned, but got off the ground, straightening out and brushing his clothes out before he dragged Patrick into a quick hug, and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “I’m going, I’m going--love you, sorry for being a dick head.”

 

Patrick was still pink, but he looked fond now, and kissed Pete’s cheek as well. “Asshole. Love you too, now seriously, _apologize_.”

 

“You want me to get Tyler to write you a note saying I did it?”

 

“No, I can tell when you’re lying. Now _get_.”

 

Pete gave him a goofy grin. “Cryptophasia babe.” And then he let go of Patrick, and went to the door, leaving and locking it behind him.

 

Patrick looked after him, and rolled his eyes, before picking up his guitar gingerly and putting it away so he could get something to eat and wait until Pete got back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm mean


	109. Chapter 109

Pete was dragging his feet. He _knew_  he was dragging his feet, but honestly? He hated having to apologize, especially since he didn’t think he was wrong. He was doing what he thought was best, protecting Tyler _and_  everyone else in the house with this.

 

But apparently he _was_  whipped, because he was going all the way upstairs, as far away from his room as he could manage putting their room, and he knocked on the door, standing back to wait.

 

After a few moments, all he could hear was blessed silence (the soundproofing was working then, _good_ ) Josh answered the door, faltering when he saw it was Pete.

 

It was clear that he was upset about the whole thing, but he appeared to not want to piss Pete off at least, and he managed a smile, although it was more him baring his teeth than anything. “Hi, Pete--what do you need?”

 

With the door open he could hear Jenna and Debby’s quiet conversation, and the muffled sound of a door clicking closed; that explained where Tyler was then. “Yeah, actually. I want to talk to Tyler--” When he saw the look on Josh’s face, he hurried to continue. “To apologize, for all this, and explain myself.”

 

Josh relaxed a little, and opened the door further so Pete could slip into the room, and then Josh shut the door behind him. As soon as he was in the suite, Jenna and Debby looked up, and Jenna waved slightly, as Josh went over to the closed door and knocked on the door.

 

“Ty? Hey, baby, Pete’s here. He wants to talk.” There was a long silence, and Tyler’s voice came through, muffled.

 

“I’ll be a few minutes. This room isn’t gonna let me out for another few minutes.”

 

Pete nodded, and, realizing that Tyler couldn’t see, cleared his throat. “I can wait. I need to talk to you privately. It’s nothing bad, I just think that this should be private, that’s all.”

 

When Tyler didn’t reply, Pete leaned against the wall, seeming to exude patience, and after another five minutes the door swung open silently, and Tyler stepped out, looking a bit uncomfortable. But it seemed to be his normal expression when he was around Pete, so he ignored it, straightening back up and stepping forward. “Can we talk in your room? I don’t want them overhearing.”

 

Josh bristled at that, and Jenna and Debby looked a bit overprotective too, but Tyler nodded, and turned to go back into the tiny bedroom, Pete following close behind, and shutting the door behind them.

 

Tyler took a seat on the bed, and looked up at Pete, “so, uh. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

 

Pete ran a hand through his hair and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “I came to, uh. I came to apologize. For all of this--locking you up, and antagonizing you about Blurryface. I should’ve known you didn’t mean any harm.”

 

Tyler smiled slightly, and ducked his head. “Thank you, and, uh, apology accepted. Just, could you please find him soon? I don’t really want anyone getting hurt--especially not Patrick.”

 

Pete frowned, and came closer, nearly in Tyler’s face. “What do you know about Patrick--why would Blurryface be interested in him?” He was nearly growling, and Tyler’s eyes got wide, and he put up his hands protectively.

 

“Nothing, I didn’t mean anything by it--I know he’s your first priority, that’s all. I swear I don’t know anything about Patrick being targeted.”

 

Pete backed off, just a little. “Good. You ever hear anything like that you tell someone immediately, you got me?”

 

Tyler nodded, and inhaled shakily, still watching Pete warily. “I understand. I’m not going to get anything though--it’s not like--I can’t just find things out without going into his head, and he _knows_  when I’m there, so he could feed me false information, or not say anything important at all.”

 

“So you’re useless then?” And Pete noticed Tyler flinch, before the steam abruptly left him, “sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t be upset. I’m just worried, that’s all. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

Tyler nodded slowly, but continued watching Pete like a hawk. “It’s okay, I’m fine.” He swallowed hard. “Um, thank you for apologizing, and all. And if that’s all you wanted to do, you can tell Patrick I forgave you.”

  
Pete grinned, finally, and nodded, turning away from Tyler to go towards the door. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Ty. Have a nice night.”


	110. Chapter 110

When Tyler spoke again, his voice was more measured, sounded colder. “You have a nice night too, Peter. I hope you enjoyed your time with your fiance, though, because it’s run out.”

 

Pete took a measured breath, and turned around to look back at Tyler, who was lounging back on the bed, far more relaxed than before as he smirked at Pete.

 

“I’m guessing you’re Blurryface then?”

 

Tyler--or at least, the person currently occupying Tyler’s body--just smiled, and nodded slightly. He looked bored, his eyes hooded as he looked at Pete, who folded his arms and looked unintimidated.

 

Finally, Blurryface broke the stare first, and glanced around the room, still bored. “So this is the place that you think is going to keep me out, huh? You keep your Patrick locked up like this too? Or is _my_  Tyler just special?”

 

Pete leaned back against the wall, attempting to look casual as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, sneakily turning on his phone’s recorder. “I’m pretty sure he’s not your anything. If anything, he’s mine, or Josh’s, because he chose us--chose to live under my roof, and chose to run away from _you_  with Josh.”

 

Blurry sat up, and bared his teeth at Pete. “He doesn’t need a choice--he’s mine.” He ran his hands down Tyler’s body, and sneered. “This? It’s mine. It was mine first, and it’s still mine. It’ll always be mine, no matter how far he runs, or who he tries to hide behind.”

 

“See, I really don’t think that’s true. You should’ve been sneakier, dude. When you showed yourself, you gave away the game, and gave us time to shut everything down. You can’t get in, and Tyler can’t get out. It’s not happening.”

 

“Can’t I though? It’s fairly obvious that I _can_  get in--even if not with my usual body. And, who said I didn’t have people in here?”

 

Blurry blinked, his eyes going distant, and suddenly Tyler was back, gulping for air, his eyes wide with horror, and Pete started forward to make sure he was okay, before Blurry gained control again.

 

“Terribly sorry about that,” he said, sounding a bit cheerful. “It’s hard to control him like this from such a far distance.” He paused, and tapped a finger over Tyler’s mouth thoughtfully. “Although, I won’t be very far away soon--or rather, if you want your fiance back, you’ll bring Tyler back to me, soon.”

 

Pete’s expression hardened, and he stalked forward. “What,” he asked dangerously, “exactly does that mean?”

 

Blurry shrugged, not looking at him as he took inventory of Tyler’s body, poking one of his tattoos. “It means exactly what you think. You shouldn’t have left your poor, tiny, fiance alone in a big room all by himself, with only two doors to protect him.”

 

Pete hauled him up by his sweatshirt, and got in his face, nearly hissing. “If he isn’t safe when I get back--”

 

“You’ll what?” Blurry asked, as though Pete wasn’t dangerously close to punching him--and to be fair, he wasn’t. “This isn’t my body, and, as pretty as he looks with bruises, you’ll only be hurting Tyler’s body. I’ll leave it, and only Tyler will be left with the pain. Pain of having his mind invaded, and the fact that you’ve beat him up, because I’m not fighting back.

 

“Now, here’s the boring part. You’re so _obvious_  about what you’re thinking. You’re going to leave, and check on your precious human, and discover he’s not there, because, of course, we have him. And then you’re going to come back up here, demand that Tyler let me speak, and Tyler will be scared, and horrified, and do as you say.

  
“And then you’re going to threaten to kill me, and all sorts of fun stuff, forgetting that you’re threatening _Tyler_ , not me. And _finally_  I’ll tell you my terms, and you’ll agree to them, because you’ll do anything to get your love back. Isn’t that right? So let’s just skip all that, and get right to it.”


	111. Chapter 111

Pete clenched his hands in Tyler’s sweatshirt, and glared. “Tell me your terms,” he said through gritted teeth.”

 

Blurry smiled, and it was frightening, how different it looked compared to Tyler’s normal smiles. “They’re actually quite simple. You give me Tyler back, and you can have your Patrick back.”

 

Pete released Blurry, let him stumble back, and fall onto the bed, where he laughed, quietly. “Was that supposed to _hurt_  me?”

 

“No, it wasn’t.” He cleared his throat, and smoothed down his clothes. “Tell me where you want the switch to happen.”

 

“Giving up so soon?” Blurry asked lazily, not even bothering to get up. “I thought we were going to have to go through that song and dance. Oh well.”

 

“Just tell me where you want us to take Tyler, and where to pick up Patrick-- _alive_ , and unharmed.”

 

Blurry waved his hand at Pete and sat up again. “Hm. It should probably be neutral territory, shouldn’t it? That’s what happened in all those movies Tyler used to watch. Let’s try doing this in human territory--say, the park?”

 

Pete nodded stiffly. “Done. What time?”

 

“Let’s aim for two days from now at midnight. Fitting, don’t you think? New moon, new you--or, rather, new Patrick.” He giggled at his own joke, while Pete’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Don’t you fucking dare--if you harm him, or turn him, I’ll rip you to shreds.”

 

Blurry waved his hand dismissively. “Big talk from someone who was about to beg. Now, I’ll just be leaving then. Remember, two days from now at midnight in the park. If you try to plan something differently, I’ll know. I’m always here.”

 

He tapped on Tyler’s head, and winked, before Tyler’s body abruptly seized up before going limp, as Pete lunged to make sure he didn’t fall off the bed and hit his head.

 

After a few moments Tyler’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked terrified, gasping for breath and clinging to Pete.

 

Pete held him carefully, although he was itching to go see if Patrick really was gone. But this was more important, because it seemed that Tyler was in the middle of a panic attack, wheezing and sobbing into Pete’s chest, getting his shirt wet.

 

After a few moments Pete began petting his hair, and shushing him. “Hey, it’s okay--you’re okay, it’s not your fault. Calm down--do you need to get Josh or Jenna or someone?”

 

Tyler shuddered, and shook his head. “I--no. I don’t think, um.” He sniffed, and took a deep breath. “I think I don’t think I want them knowing about this. If you’re going to give me back to Blurry, I don’t really think they should find out.” He gave Pete a watery smile. “They’d try to stop you, and then you wouldn’t get Patrick back. I don’t want that.”

 

Pete stood, and pulled Tyler to his feet, before Tyler began wiping his tears away. “Are you sure about this?” Pete asked quietly. “Because--”

 

Tyler hesitated, before nodding firmly. “It’s not like we can do anything else. He’s in my _head_ , he can hear everything I do, and see everything I see. This needs to happen. Just--take care of them for me please? And Patrick.”

 

Pete, even though he was shorter than Tyler, nodded and tucked Tyler’s face into his shoulder, patting his back in a semblance of a hug, which Tyler melted into. “I can do that,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry about this. Take care of yourself, I’m going to go see if Patrick’s really missing. If he is, well. I’ll come get you, two days from now around nine.”

 

Tyler nodded, and kept wiping at his tears, and Pete opened the now unlocked door, slipping out and shutting it softly behind him; it’d give Tyler more time to try and get control over himself, and it meant he’d be long gone so Josh wouldn’t try to question him.

  
“I’m gonna go now. I’ve apologized and everything else, and Tyler’s accepted it, so you can stop being mad at me,” Pete said, before heading towards the door, dodging Josh as he did. “You three have a nice night.”


	112. Chapter 112

Before Josh could say anything, Pete was gone, trying not to sprint down the corridors and stairs to his room; when he got there though, it all _seemed_  fine. The door wasn’t ajar, and was still locked, so he relaxed a bit, kept his guard up as he unlocked the door and slipped inside, and headed straight towards Patrick’s room.

 

He was trying not to panic, but the door to his room was closed and locked as well, and when he opened that door, he was expecting to hopefully see Patrick, on the bed, or watching tv--anything at all would be nice.

 

But the lights were off, and it remained eerily silent, and the only thing Pete could see out of place was a note, taped to Patrick’s guitar.

 

Pete rushed towards it, grabbed the note, and opened it carefully, trying not to rip the paper. It read:

 

_You know what we have, and what we want. You know what to do. If you comply, no one will get hurt, and if you don’t, there’s always use for fresh blood here._

 

Pete’s hands were shaking, and he had to actively coax his hands to stop gripping the paper, and he mutely let it drop to the ground, before he sat down on the bed, and fumbled to grab his phone out of his pocket.

 

It was still recording, and he stopped it, before dialing Bill, and picking up the note again.

 

“Hello,” Bill said, sounding a bit pleased with himself. “If you’re calling about Tyler, he’s safe and sound, along with the other three in his room.”

 

Pete didn’t even bother to force out a laugh. “Bill, do we have a list of everyone who lives here? If we do, get it, and call everyone in the house together; take roll call. We have a problem.”

 

Bill, sensing the seriousness of the situation, said, “yes, of course we do. I’ll gather everyone up, it should take maybe ten minutes. Do you want Tyler and them out as well?”

 

“No, they’re fine where they are. Just get everyone together, _now_.”

 

“I’m doing that right now,” Bill said soothingly. “Now, tell me what the problem is--I don’t think you want it sprung on me during the meeting.”

 

“Blurry and Morris have Patrick. Someone must have let them in, because there’s no sign of force, and Patrick’s just _gone_.”

 

Bill held the phone away from his mouth and muttered a curse. “Okay, this is more than a ‘problem,’ then. Is there a note or something?”

 

“Yes, and I’ve already talked to Blurry as well. But the important part is figuring out who the fuck let them in, and why. I’ll be in the meeting hall in five minutes, and everyone better be there, or heads will roll.”

 

Bill quickly agreed, and turned off his call with Pete, to switch to the intercom system. It was a newer feature of the house, and _usually_  it was used for happier things, like when Gabe stole his phone and pranked the entire house, but this time, when he turned it on, he sounded stern. “Everyone will go in the meeting hall now. If you aren’t there in that time, there will be severe punishments doled out.”

 

When Pete got to the meeting room, the seats were filled almost completely, so he stalked up to the platform, everyone’s eyes following him, as Bill stepped aside and let him take the podium.

 

“So,” he said quietly to Bill, “have you called roll yet?”

 

Bill nodded, “of course, everyone’s here and accounted for. You can go ahead and speak.”

 

Pete nodded, and cleared his throat, eyeing everyone in the room. “So, you may be wondering why you’re here. And it’s simple--none of you are leaving, until we find out who fucking let _Morris_  into this house.”

 

Mutters began spreading throughout the room, and Gabe and Travie moved to block the only way into the room.

 

“Now,” he said loudly. “Spill, or else I’ll spill your guts. Tell me who the fuck let Morris in, and where the fuck he took Patrick--you know, my  _fiance_?”

 

Eyes around the room snapped to him, and Pete leaned forward on the podium, glaring at everyone, and baring his teeth.

  
“Who the fuck let Morris in. The sooner the truth is told, the sooner the rest of you get out of here.”


	113. Chapter 113

Finally, someone stood, and people began shoving him toward the aisle. Pete’s eyes narrowed.

 

“What’s your name?” He asked, faux sweetly. “Bill, tell me his name.”

 

Bill glanced at his list, and back at the man. “He’s Larry, and he’s been here approximately--hm, a year, it appears.” Neither one of them looked at him as he got shoved to the front of the room.

 

“Do you want to tell us _why_  you’re up here? You can tell us if you fucked up, or if you were a spy. It’s okay. Just tell us how you got in, and nothing will happen to you.”

 

Larry, evidently having no amount of self-preservation, straightened up and folded his arms in an attempt to look intimidating. “I didn’t let anyone in. I just--” He coughed, and trailed off.

 

“You just  _what_ ,” Pete said, sounding dangerous. He wasn’t amused, at all, and he very nearly vaulted over the podium, with only Bill holding him back, and Larry backed up a few steps, a few other vampires stood behind him, so he couldn’t bolt.

 

“I don’t know! I went out to a bar, and met these guys, and started talking with them. They seemed interested in joining the house, and asked about how it worked, and if we bit humans here, stuff like that.”

 

“You had better have said no, because I distinctly remember that being against the rules. And what did you tell them about the house, besides that?”

 

Larry hunched in on himself. “I told them that it was cool that there was a secret door, and they must’ve gotten in that way. I didn’t let them in, I swear.”

 

“He’s lying,” Greta said suddenly, and the crowd turned to look at her.

 

“I’m not lying,” he argued back. “I didn’t let them in, and I wouldn’t have, ever. I love this place.”

 

“That’s another lie.” Greta said, not taking her eyes off of him. “He’s got a red flare around him when he lies, and you _know_  I’m telling the truth. It’s my thing,” she said, finally looking at Pete, and then she glanced back at Larry. “You should know better than to lie, especially obvious ones, because you blink when you say them too.”

 

“Do you know what the truth is, then?” Pete asked, and if looks could kill, Larry would be a pile of ashes.

 

“He let them in, and he hates this place--he liked it at first, until you imposed the no feeding off of humans rule, and he met them in a bar, he said--it was a human bar, because he was trying to pick someone up to drink from. That’s where he met them, and that’s why he let them in. He thinks you’re too soft.”

 

Larry glared at her, and started forward, but Pete lunged over the podium and tackled him, straddling his waist and digging his nails into his chest. “Is what she’s saying true? Did you really decide to disobey my rules, _and_  let Morris and those fuckers in the house?”

 

“So what if I did?” He said loudly, “you’ve gotten soft, since you started that stupid treaty with the humans. Why should we have to bow down to them? We could easily take control, and their blood belongs to us!”

 

“No, it really doesn’t. Now, tell me where the fuck they’re located, _now_.”

 

“I don’t know, I just met them that day!”

 

Pete glanced sideways at Greta, who nodded. “That’s true.”

 

“Oh, goodie, you’re useless to us,” Pete said calmly, “isn’t that right?”

 

“Yes, I guess so. Now let me go, and I’ll leave this stupid fucking place.”

 

Pete smiled slowly, baring his fangs. “That’s not happening,” he said, and before Larry could react, Pete slammed his hands down on Larry’s chest, burning him as he writhed, nearly screaming as Pete kept his hands on Larry, until he was still.

 

Then, Pete stood, and kicked Larry’s body briskly. “Someone take care of that, will you? And, Greta--you see if anyone else was involved, won’t you please?”

 

 


	114. Chapter 114

Her eyes were wide, and she nodded quickly, as Victoria came to her side, idly twirling a stake. “Do we have permission to use force,” Victoria asked, faux sweetly.

 

Pete smiled grimly, and nodded. “Figure out who else may have been involved. No one leaves this room until we determine that everyone else is innocent.”

 

Greta nodded, and squared her shoulders, looking stern, as Bill appeared next to her, holding the list of people in the room. “We’ll do this alphabetically. Let’s get started, shall we?”

 

Pete nodded again, and spun around, eyeing the body that was still on the ground. “Fine, then, I’ll just have to take care of myself then,” and he picked the body up effortlessly, the crowd parting for him quickly as Gabe and Travie let him out of the door. “Tell me if you find anything out,” he called over his shoulder. “I have other things I need to be doing.”

 

He carried the body outside, and eyed the grounds, before dropping it on the ground, and leaving, coming back a few minutes later carrying a stake, which he slammed into Larry’s chest, dusting him quickly. He broke the stake in half, and tossed it off of the grounds, and kicked the dust, brushing himself off afterwards and going back inside, where Andy and Joe met him.

 

Joe looked wide eyed, but Andy was unintimidated, as Pete stalked forward and glared at them both. “What is it?” He asked roughly.

 

“Why didn’t you warn us that you were going to announce Patrick was taken--why didn’t you _tell_  us?” Joe said immediately, more upset than angry. “When did this happen?”

 

“Less than an hour ago. I was with Tyler when it happened, apparently.”

 

“Well how did you know Morris did it,” Joe asked insistently. “Couldn’t it have been someone else?”

 

“No, it couldn’t, because I was talking to one of the people who Morris works with at the time.”

 

“But wait,” Joe said slowly, “you just said you were with Tyler?”

 

“He was being possessed,” Pete said dismissively, and he shoved them out of the way, to head back to his room. Andy and Joe, sharing a look, followed after him quickly.

 

“What do you mean by ‘he was possessed?’ You can’t just say something like that and walk off,” Joe said, matching his strides easily.

 

Pete spun, and pressed him into the wall, hand at his throat. “Yes, yes I can,” he hissed. “This is _my_  house, and if I never want to disclose a goddamned thing to you, I will. You’re in _my_ domain.”

 

Andy lunged forward and grabbed Pete, yanking him back, as Joe slumped back against the wall and gasped for breath.

 

“What the fuck, Pete? You can’t just fucking take your anger out on Joe, he didn’t do anything but worry about you.”

 

Pete snarled at him, and yanked out of his hold, looking vicious. “Fuck off. I’m in charge here, and I can do whatever I like, including pinning someone to a wall, or strangling him.”

 

“That’s nice and all, but being an asshole or taking your anger out on an innocent bystander won’t bring Patrick back any quicker.”

 

“Yeah, but it damn well makes me feel better,” Pete muttered, and Joe straightened up, rubbing his throat.

 

“Doesn’t make me feel better,” Joe rasped out, looking uncomfortable, and Andy reached out to touch his shoulder.

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t fucking care. Both of you fuck off, won’t you?”

 

Andy shook his head, and grabbed Pete’s arm, yanking him back. “Oh no, that’s not happening. What _is_  going to happen is you’re going to apologize to Joe, and then we’re going to go back to your room, and plan.”

 

“Plan what, exactly? Because as far as I’m aware, I didn’t ask you to help me.”

 

“We’re going to help anyways. And I notice you haven’t apologized yet. Do it, or I mess up your hair.”

 

That got a slight smile out of Pete, and he glanced over at Joe, who was staring at him warily, and sighed. “I’m sorry I attempted to strangle you for getting on my nerves. There, is that good enough?”

 

“I’ll take it,” Joe said, before Andy could reply, “now, seriously, let’s get back to your room and plan this shit.”

 

 


	115. Chapter 115

Pete rolled his eyes and turned back, heading to his room as Andy and Joe followed behind him, letting him unlock his door and they followed him in, locking the door behind them as Pete flopped onto the bed, looking dejected.

 

Joe and Andy glanced at each other, before Joe took a deep breath and climbed on the bed with Pete, trying to situate himself around Pete comfortably.

 

“So,” Joe said, trying to remain calm. “What happened, and what are we gonna do about it?”

 

Pete, without thinking about it, put his hand in Joe’s hair, and Andy sighed and climbed into bed with them after kicking off his shoes.

 

“Well, I went up to apologize to Tyler, for locking him up, because Patrick told me to, and when I went to leave, Blurryface--the guy who’s after Tyler, and looks nearly exactly like him--possessed him. That’s his power, you see. He can control people, and because he and Tyler have a strong bond, being that Blurry’s Tyler’s sire, he can control him from far away.

 

“He distracted me, and then fucking Morris got in after that asshole let him in, and now Patrick’s gone. And now we’ve got to take Tyler and hand him over in two days, so I can get Patrick back safe.”

 

Andy nodded slowly, and cleared his throat. “Okay, good plan. But do you have one for getting Tyler _back_?”

 

Pete groaned, and rubbed his forehead, shook his head. “No, I don’t. There’d be no way for me to communicate the plan with Tyler anyways--Blurry can hear everything he hears, whenever he wants. He’s fucked, basically.”

 

Joe blinked, and squirmed, so he was half in Andy’s lap, and half in Pete’s. “Well, maybe you don’t _need_  to tell him what you’re doing. Just, I dunno--do we know anyone who’s a tracker? Like, if we don’t we could maybe insist on picking out what he wears? Y’know, so you know he’s Tyler, and not Blurry, or something.”

 

Pete blinked, and glanced at Andy slowly. “Andy, do I have permission to kiss your mate? Because I kind of really want to right now.”

 

That made Joe yelp, and Andy quickly pulled him away from Pete, dragging Joe into his lap. “No, Wentz, you can’t kiss Joe. He’s mine. But you can thank him, for coming up with a good idea.”

 

“Well, thank you then, I guess--although kissing _is_  a way of thanking people, you know.”

 

“Save the kissing for when you get Patrick back. But for now, we need to actually _get_ a tracking device. You have any idea how?”

 

Pete tapped his fingers on his thigh and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I have a few--don’t ask. I’ll get them, and then, I dunno--I’ll get Ryan or Spencer to sew it into Tyler’s shirt. And pants--let’s just go with everything, I think. Just in case.”

 

Andy nodded, and released his hold on Joe. “Right, okay. If you grab those, I’ll go grab Spencer, and Joe can go steal Tyler’s clothes, I guess.”

 

“Wait, why do I have to steal his clothes? I don’t even know where he is.”

 

Pete waved his hands vaguely. “Fine, I don’t care. You’re like the same height as him aren’t you? Go grab some of your clothes and he can wear those.”

  
Joe rolled his eyes and muttered something rude under his breath, but he moved off the bed to do as he was told; he wanted Patrick back, definitely, but he didn’t want Tyler getting stuck with his sire, who he obviously was terrified of. And if this was the way to do it, then he was damn well gonna let Tyler wear his clothes, even if they were getting tracking devices sewn into them. 


	116. Chapter 116

Andy, on the other hand, dragged Pete off the bed as soon as Joe had left, and out of the room, “c’mon. You find the things, and we’ll meet back here. I’ll get both Spencer and Ryan, because this is probably a two person job, if we want it done quickly and efficiently.”

 

Pete nodded, and started off towards his office. “They’re probably still in the meeting hall, so get Greta to interrogate them both before bringing them out, just in case.”

 

Andy went to the hall, getting in easily, as Gabe and Travie opened the door for him, and he went up to Greta, glancing at the list in Bill’s hand.

 

“Can you do me a favor and skip to Ryan and Spencer, please?” He muttered to Bill. “If they’re clean, Pete needs to borrow them.”

 

Bill glanced sideways at him, and nodded, leaning in to brush his mouth against Greta’s ear. “We’re doing Ryan and Spencer next. Is this person clean?”

 

Greta didn’t look at him as she nodded, “okay, you’re free to go.” She coughed lightly. “George Ryan Ross? You’re next. Boss’ orders.”

 

A moment later, the  crowd parted for Ryan, with Spencer following behind him, and Ryan stood in front of them, fussing with his sleeves. “Well? I didn’t let anyone in, and I’m not a fan of Morris. I don’t support him and I wouldn’t support Patrick getting kidnapped--if only because I’ve already started his suit for the wedding, and I don’t want to have to retake measurements on someone else.”

 

Greta glanced over at Bill. “He’s good. Spencer, you’re next.”

 

Spencer sighed a little, and took a step forward to stand next to Ryan. “I definitely don’t support Morris, or anything else like that. I actually like Patrick, and so does Ryan, even if he is an idiot about it. Can we go now?”

 

Greta nodded again at Bill, who checked them both off the list. “Go right ahead--but Pete needs you, so you should probably follow Andy.”

 

Andy motioned them forwards, and they left the meeting hall, the doors shutting them behind them. “We’ll need to stop by your room--Pete has a favor, and he’ll need you to use your sewing kits.”

 

Ryan kept in step with him, Spencer trailing behind a step. “Okay. Can we ask what the task is, or will we be sworn to secrecy?”

 

“You can ask Pete, and you probably will be, at least for a bit. Sorry, but this is pretty important.”

 

“Does it have to do with getting Patrick back?”

 

Andy paused for a moment, and nodded slightly. “Slightly. You’ll learn more when we get back.”

 

When they arrived at Ryan and Spencer’s room, Ryan slipped into the room first, grabbing both his and Spencer’s sewing kits. He came out a few minutes later, and handed Spencer’s over silently, letting Andy close and lock the door behind them.

 

“Right then. We’ll meet Pete and Joe at Pete’s room. Joe’s got the clothes you’ll need to stitch up.”

 

Ryan and Spencer glanced at each other, seemingly communicating a lot in just one glance, and they followed behind Andy, clutching their kits. When they got to the room, Joe was waiting, clutching a bevy of clothing, and when Andy glanced at him, eyebrow raised, he shrugged sheepishly.

 

“I wasn’t sure what was going to work,” Joe said, in response to Andy’s silent question. “So I brought anything that I thought might. Spencer or Ryan or Pete can decide what to use, I don’t care. I can always buy more.”

 

Andy nodded, and, because his hands were empty, he opened the door to Pete’s room to let them all in, and one of the first things they noticed when they walked in was Pete on his knees in front of a box, searching through it before he crowed triumphantly before he turned to look at them.

 

“Well, get in here and shut the door,” he said impatiently. Andy very valiantly didn’t roll his eyes, and did as he was told.

 

When the door was safely shut and locked, Pete motioned them over, looking serious. “So, before I tell you anything, I’m going to need to swear you to secrecy. So, do you swear not to talk to anyone about what we’re doing now?”

 

Ryan and Spencer nodded, chorusing “I swear,” and glancing at each other with slight smiles at how in sync they were.

 

Pete’s serious face didn’t waver though, and he took the clothes from Joe, picking through them until he had a sweatshirt, older t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and he tossed them at Ryan and Spencer, as well as a box of trackers.

 

“I need you to sew those into the fabric of the clothes. It’s important--to get Patrick back, I need to hand over Tyler, but I’m not about to let Morris disappear with him; he’s under my protection. So, see what you can do.”

 

Ryan and Spencer glanced at each other again and nodded, and they took the clothes from Pete, and got to work.

 

 


	117. Chapter 117

Patrick wasn’t having nearly as good of a time. In fact, if he were to know what the others were doing, he would’ve wished he was in their place--not that he’d wish anyone was in _his_  place. But, yeah.

 

He had been just minding his own business, in the kitchen thinking about getting some cereal to eat, when the door to his room opened nearly silently. He _thought_  it was Pete, coming back to distract him, or say that Tyler was busy, so he couldn’t apologize, but when he turned around, there were around three or four vampires at the door, blocking his only way out of the room, and he swallowed hard.

 

“Pete’s not here right now,” he said, sounding far more calm than he thought he ever could. “But if you could come back in like, twenty minutes, you can talk to him. Or you could meet him in his office. He’s touchy about people being in his personal rooms. You know how that is, I’m sure.”

 

The bald guy, who appeared to be their leader, just grinned at him, revealing an honest to god grill. “We’re not here to see Wentz, we’re here for you.”

 

Patrick, as if his brain to mouth filter wasn’t working, said, “okay, but you should know that you can only see me by appointments only, and my assistant doesn’t usually let guys like you in here.”

 

He blinked, and then paled. “Um, shit, I didn’t mean that, uh--please don’t kill me? Or, y’know. Kidnap me.”

 

He edged around the table, and the bald guy lunged forward and grabs him, yanking him into his arms and clamping a hand over his mouth.

 

“You’re lucky we need you alive for this, kid, or else I’d bite you and leave you to bleed out on the floor.”

 

In response, Patrick licked his hand, making a face as the guy pulled his hand away and wiped it on his shirt.

 

“Seriously?” Patrick complained. “That’s the best you can do?” He was terrified, both from being surrounded and at the threat, but he was hoping that his bravado would distract them, until someone came and saved him.

 

The guy shoved him towards a bigger guy, who picked him up easily, and held his jaw shut, so he couldn’t try anything.

 

“Seriously Morris? You couldn’t take care of him yourself?”

 

“Shut the fuck up, I’m the boss here, and I want you to hold the brat. I need my hands free so we can get out of here undetected.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes and tried squirm out of his arms, but the guy was _buff_ , and had vampire strength, and Patrick couldn’t do anything to escape. It sucked, especially when the guy--Morris-- wandered off farther into the room, and came back with a--thankfully clean-- pair of socks.

 

“Let go of his jaw, and we’ll shove this in his mouth. That way you can carry him easier, Phil.”

 

Phil let go of Patrick’s jaw, and he huffed. “Seriously dude? You didn’t even bring anything help you kidnap me? What if I didn’t have anything for you to gag me with? Seriously, you guys suck.”

 

Morris snarled, and shoved the makeshift gag into Patrick’s mouth, and he made a face, especially when Phil hoisted him up far easier than before. “Lucky I gagged you with that, and didn’t just knock you the fuck out. We can smell your fear kid, just stop with the bravery.”

 

Patrick stiffened up in Phil’s arms, and Morris patted his cheek, more a slap than anything, because it snapped his head to the side, and he felt like it was going to leave a bruise.

 

“C’mon, let’s get out of here. The guy said there’s another passage out of here near these rooms, so I’ll lead, because I know where it is.”

 

Apparently he was at least a bit more competent than Patrick thought, because soon enough they came to a section of the wall with a painting of what appeared to be (if Patrick tilted his head and squinted a little) absolutely nothing. Just a few paint splatters, and a smiley face, or something.

  
Morris went up to it, and narrowed his eyes in concentration, before he brushed his fingers against the blank wall five inches to the left of it. The next thing Patrick knew, the wall panel opened with an eerie sounding creak to a dark staircase. The vampires didn’t appear to care about how it looked obviously haunted.


	118. Chapter 118

Morris looked a bit twitchy though, when the panel creaked, and he jerked his head towards the other guys, “you guys lead, I’ll hold up the back. We need to get out of here in case someone comes to investigate. They left, Phil and Morris in the very back, and Morris shut the panel behind them, leaving them in full darkness, although it appeared that they could see, and Patrick inwardly cursed vampire sight.

 

He couldn’t see anything, but they weaved their way through the tunnel for what seemed like _hours_ , until they finally found a door, and opened it carefully, and Patrick had to squint at the sudden light from the moon as they hurried out, Morris falling behind to close the door, and then they broke out into a sprint, and Patrick clutched at Phil’s neck so he wouldn’t be dropped or break his neck or something, digging his nails in. Phil didn’t even seem to notice, which was good, and when they got to a cliched dark van, on the outskirts of the property, the group stopped.

 

“Right, Phil’s driving; I’ll take the kid. C’mon.” He held out his arms impatiently, so Phil dropped him, and Morris carried him over to the car and got in, dragging Patrick into the back and shoving him on the floor. “Stay down there if you know what’s good for you. You’re seen, and I’ll break your hand, I don’t care if you’re not supposed to be injured.”

 

Someone, Patrick couldn’t tell who, muttered something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like, “too late for that, you already fucking slapped him.”

 

Morris narrowed his eyes, and tightened his hand in Patrick’s hair, “shut the fuck up, Stan, and Phil, hurry the fuck up and start driving, I want to get out of here.”

 

There was a grumble, but the van started up and they drove off, and one thing was for sure; dangerous driving was definitely a vampire thing, and the fact that the only thing keeping him from being flung around was Morris’ hand in his hair, and that wasn’t a very comforting thought.

 

Still though, he wasn’t bound, which meant that he could remove the gag from his mouth, and he grimaced at the pain in his jaw, trying to massage the ache out of it and just checking his cheek, hissing quietly when it stung. He was lucky he hadn’t bitten the inside of his cheek, that was for sure.

 

When he hissed though, Morris took notice, and tightened his hand in Patrick’s hair. “Hey, did I say you could take the gag out?”

 

“No, but you also didn’t say I couldn’t. Thanks for worrying though, and you should really get those memory issues worked out.”

 

Morris yanked him closer, and grabbed his face, so he could look at him, pressing hard at the forming bruise. “You _really_  need to stop being smart with me. I can’t _wait_  to give you over to Blurry, because then you’ll learn not to fucking mess with us.”

 

Patrick’s eyes widened a bit in fear, and he bit his lip, going silent. As a reward, Morris let go of him, and patted his head.

 

“There we go, knew humans could be trained. And what do you know, we’ve got quite a while to do it. And I’m sure you’re a quick learner; I mean, there has to be something Wentz likes about you.”

 

Patrick was silent for the rest of the ride back, and when they pulled into an underground parking garage, he got out without anyone’s help, and went at least semi-willingly. Anything to get far,  _far_  away from Morris.

 

Of course, when the others split away, Morris gripped Patrick’s arm tightly, and hauled him past rooms of vampires, who all peered out hungrily as they passed, and Patrick hurried to catch up with him.

 

“Could you please slow down? I can’t keep up with you.”

 

Morris paused, and then when Patrick caught up he stayed at a slower pace, letting the other vampires come closer, and Patrick absolutely _reeked_  of fear, which made them grin, flashing fangs and snapping at him.

 

“He looks good enough to eat,” one called out, and a few others seconded the statement.

 

“Can I have him after you’re finished?” Another called out hopefully, and someone reached out to touch Patrick’s arm, which made his heart rate pick up, and they snickered.

 

Morris rolled his eyes, and scooped Patrick up. “You can’t have him, he’s not ours--we have to give him back soon. But apparently we’re getting a treat back, so it’s probably worth it.”

 

A girl slinked up, pouting at Morris. “Aw, but he smells so _sweet_ \--just one bite, please? Or maybe we can drain him a bit, cut him a tiny bit and say it’s from when he fought back. No bite marks or anything--please Shane? Please?”

 

He looked thoughtful, and Patrick dug his nails into Morris’ shoulders, until he shrugged Patrick off, and flashed her a smile.

 

“No, afraid I can’t allow that--but don’t worry, I’ll go out and get you someone who smells just as sweet, and we can share them.”

 

“But they probably won’t be as pretty!” And Patrick made a face, as did Shane.

 

“Then we’ll pick them out together. But I’ve gotta take him to his babysitter and then we can leave babe.”

 

She pouted, and eyed the line of Patrick’s neck but backed off, allowing Shane to continue, and when he got to a darker hallway, not lined with doors, he set Patrick down.

 

 


	119. Chapter 119

“C’mon, it’s this way. Keep in mind that if you even try to escape, you’ll be drained, and maybe if you’re lucky they won’t turn you, keep you like a pet.”

 

Patrick swallowed hard and nodded, following Shane closely, and when they reached the door at the end of the hall, he knocked on the door, and took a step back, tilting his head.

 

“He’s in there--have fun, don’t piss your new babysitter off, or else you’ll be a snack,” and he opened the door and shoved Patrick in, shutting the door behind him while Patrick was sitting up properly.

 

The room was lit only by a few bulbs, some of which were burnt out, and the first thing he noticed was the blood.

 

He scrambled to his feet and backed up a few steps, gagging, especially when he noticed the bodies shoved into the corner, and the body on the bed, that looked awfully similar to Tyler.

 

He hesitated, and wiped his hands on his jeans before covering his mouth, creeping closer, and when he was a few feet away from the bed, the person’s eyes flew open and stared directly at him.

 

“Oh good, you’re here,” he said, and then he dropped back onto the bed, eyes shut again.

 

Patrick gulped, and backed up, because oh _fuck_  his eyes were red and was that blood on his hands and neck? Oh god, oh _fuck_  that was Blurryface, and god _dammit_  he was alone with him and a pile of bodies.

 

Patrick plastered himself against the wall furthest away from the bed and the bodies, and he slid down to sit, curl up and made himself as tiny as possible, in hopes that Blurry wouldn't notice. He wasn’t having a good time at _all_ , and if given the chance, would’ve gladly taken someone else’s place, so long as they were safe--not that he’d want anyone to be in his situation.

 

There was a long, _long_  moment of silence, and Patrick felt frozen, didn’t move and tried to breathe as little as possible, both to not call attention to himself and because the room smelled like blood, and corpses, and finally Blurry moved again, sitting up slowly and turning to stare directly at Patrick.

 

“So,” he said slowly, eyeing Patrick. “You’re Patrick, yes? Absolutely _lovely_ , I’m glad to meet you on better terms.”

 

Patrick squeaked, before clearing his throat. “I wish I could say the same. So, um, Mr. Blurryface, how about you let me go, and then I won’t ever be in your way again?”

 

Blurry smiled slowly, and shook his head, and when Patrick averted his eyes so he didn’t have to see Blurry’s gleaming teeth, Blurry’s eyes narrowed and he was off the bed in a flash, kneeling down next to Patrick and touching him.

 

Actually _touching_  him, and Patrick froze, didn’t even breathe as Blurry tilted his head and brushed against the bruise, tsking softly.

 

“Oh my,” he said quietly. “That doesn’t look good. Has your fiance been beating you?”

 

Patrick made a face, and tried to jerk out of Blurry’s hold. “No, he hasn’t.” He said shortly. “It’s from the guy who brought me here, after he said he wasn’t supposed to hurt me.”

 

Blurry’s hand tightened on his jaw, and he flashed his teeth at Patrick, who shivered and stopped moving.

 

“Look,” he said shakily. “Just let me go, seriously. I haven’t done anything to deserve this, and frankly, I don’t understand _why_  you’d want me.”

 

Blurry patted his face directly over the bruise, and he hissed. “Don’t be silly,” Blurry said, “I don’t want you. You’re just a step I need to _get_  what I want.”

  
Patrick blinked, uncomprehending, and then he shook his head fiercely. “Oh no. No no no, you can’t think that--you’re not getting Tyler back.” He sounded absolutely venomous, and Blurry’s eyes widened in delight, as he studied Patrick, a bit more respect in his eyes.


	120. Chapter 120

“And what,” he asked silkily, “exactly are you going to do to stop me? You’re a tiny little human, who’s only here because he was silly enough to agree to marry Wentz.”

 

Patrick dug his nails into Blurry’s arm, ignoring the blood, and tried to yank away from him. “So? That doesn’t mean you have any right to Tyler, and even if I was a vampire you wouldn’t have any right to him.”

 

Blurry’s eyes flashed, and he got closer, staring Patrick in the eye until Patrick looked away. “He’s _mine_ ,” he hissed out. “He’s always been mine, and the marks on him prove it. I’ll have him back soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it; you’re going straight back to Wentz, who already promised me Tyler in exchange for you. There’s nothing you can do about that.”

 

“I’m going to kick his ass,” Patrick muttered spitefully, but he otherwise didn’t respond to Blurry, who finally let him go, and stood.

 

“You would make an excellent vampire,” he said quietly, and Patrick flinched back, hands coming up to cover his neck protectively. “Really though, you’re very loyal, and protective, and I’d love to have you at my back.”

 

He studied Patrick’s face, noting the fear in his eyes. “Ah well,” he finally sighed. “As long as Wentz brings me Tyler, you won’t have to worry about that. But if he’s even five minutes late...well. We’d find out soon enough what type of vampire you really are.”

 

Patrick hunched over and avoided Blurry’s eyes as Blurry turned around, and walked towards the door. “Oh,” he added, “I want you to go to the bed and sleep now, until I come back.” And without realizing it Patrick stood and stumbled over to it, like he wasn’t in control of his body and slid under the covers, eyes shutting immediately.

 

Blurry smirked. “Sweet dreams,” he sang out softly, and he opened the door and slid out of the room, shutting and locking it behind him again.

 

 


	121. Chapter 121

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh. unhappy family relationships mentioned in this chapter
> 
> also i'm gonna be updating every few days because i need to write more, which i've been having trouble with because of work and school

When the door opened again, some hours later, Patrick almost immediately woke up, sitting up in the bed, and Blurry closed the door behind him, and locked it.

 

Blurry didn’t say anything as Patrick stared wildly across the room, and down at the bed, and Blurry could see the comprehension form in his eyes as he tugged off the covers and immediately got out of bed, and Blurry quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Don’t forget to make the bed,” he said calmly, and without even thinking about it Patrick turned to do just that, although from his tense shoulders it seemed like he was fighting against the order.

 

When Patrick was finished he turned around again, fear mixed with anger in his eyes, and Blurry smiled slowly.

 

“Don’t _do_  that,” he finally spat out. “I’m not--stop it.”

 

“I didn’t do anything,” Blurry said, faux innocent as he inspected his fingernails. “I just asked you to make the bed.”

 

“Yeah, I bet,” Patrick said, and he folded his arms, trying to look intimidating.

 

He looked a bit like an angry kitten staring up at someone who could pick him up by the scruff of his neck and shake him until he behaved, and that was exactly what Blurry wanted to do.

 

“Really. I just asked you to do something simple, and you did it.” Blurry looked past him at the bed. “Nice job by the way. I couldn’t have done it better.”

 

The angry look on Patrick’s face faltered, and he steeled himself again. “Thanks, and all, but seriously. Stop ordering me around, and making me do things.”

 

“I’m not making you do anything, just giving suggestions--”

 

“We both know that’s bullshit,” Patrick said flatly. “I know you have like, the power to get in people’s minds to control them, so just stop it.”

 

Blurry tilted his head and looked speculatively at Patrick. “You know,” he said in a voice that was much higher than before, making him sound almost exactly like Tyler, “I’ve been nice up until now, so I don’t think I deserve you being rude to me like this.”

 

“Your idea of ‘nice’ is wrong,” Patrick countered, and he tried not to show how unnerved he was. “Last time I checked, mind controlling people wasn’t nice.”

 

“Oh _Patrick_ , I was just getting started,” Blurry said, and before Patrick could blink he was against the wall, staring up at Blurry. “Now, you’re going to apologize, or I’ll show you how mean I can really be.”

 

When Patrick didn’t reply, ever defiant, Blurry got closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, so Patrick had to strain to hear him. “That’s fine--we’ll just talk about your parents then. It wasn’t my handiwork, but I can tell you about it if you like--I can see it, fresh in your mind.”

 

Patrick swallowed hard, and shoved at him. “I get it, okay? You’re a powerful asshole who likes being creepy. Drop the subject, and back off.”

 

“No, no, I don’t think I will. Your mind is so _interesting_ , and the conclusions I can draw from what I can see...it’s lovely.” He hummed, and tilted his head, shivering.

 

“Your fear is _wonderful,_  by the way. But, oh, that’s not what I’m going to talk about. We’re going to discuss how _trusting_  your mother was, inviting two poor, wet people into her house--was she not warned about the dangers of inviting people in?

 

“But that doesn’t matter though. What does matter is how as soon as your mother turned around, one of them grabbed her and bit her--she didn’t even have time to _scream_. Your father though, he must’ve heard _something_.” Blurry paused, tilted his head as if he was listening to something. “You know they didn’t love each other, didn’t you? Knew your father resented having kids, thought it was something he had to do, and you _hated_  that. You shouldn’t think that just because he went to see what happened that he still loved your mother, really. That’s just setting yourself up to high expectations for a man who you never really knew.”

 

Patrick gritted his teeth. “Get out of my _head_.”

 

“But it’s so much _fun_. You’re scared of vampires because of this, aren’t you? Have nightmares about sharp teeth coming for your neck--” and Blurry grinned slowly, revealing gleaming fangs, and Patrick whimpered, shying away from Blurry without even thinking about it.

 

 


	122. Chapter 122

Blurry finally  pulled away, and Patrick’s knees nearly gave out, until Blurry grabbed his arm and kept him standing. Patrick pulled away from him, or at least tried to.

 

“I get it, okay? You’re scary and know what I’m thinking, and can get in my head. Let go of me, and I won’t talk back for as long as I’m here, I swear.”

 

Blurry hummed, and finally let Patrick go. “Fine then. But don’t think this means I’m going to let you go free that easily. We’ll still have our time together, don’t you fret.”

 

He patted Patrick’s cheek, and he hissed, jerking away because _fuck_ , of course he had to hit his injured cheek, and Blurry took a step back, a little happier than before. It wasn’t a good sign for Patrick, he thought.

 

Especially when Blurry paused at the pile of bodies, and flashed a quick grin at Patrick over his shoulder before he hauled one of them up, and Patrick gagged when he saw how bloody they were.

 

“This is where I get my paint,” Blurry said far too cheerful. “Red’s _such_  a pretty color, and you get enough blood together it looks almost black. Very nice touch.”

 

Patrick looked away, hunching in on himself as he folded his arms and tried to take up as little space as possible. Blurry misunderstood; or perhaps he knew exactly what disgusted Patrick about it.

 

He dropped the body, and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Don’t worry,” he said, watching Patrick curiously. “I’m not going to use your blood as paint. For one, it’d sort of ruin the whole plan, and for another, you smell nicer than them. You’d make a good vampire.” He was trying to be reassuring, it appeared.

 

Patrick swallowed back bile, and didn’t respond, couldn’t look at Blurry, who kept _staring_  at him. After a moment though, Blurry just shrugged to himself and picked the body up again. “I’m going to take these out now,” he said loudly, so Patrick had to hear him. “I’m cleaning the place up for you, seeing as you’ll be here for a while. Besides, they’re all useless now.”

 

When he finally left, locking the door behind himself, Patrick dropped onto his knees and took deep breaths, trying to regulate his breathing again. His heart was beating far too fast, and he felt sick. He wanted out, he wanted to be far _far_  away from this room, and all these vampires. But he froze when he considered Tyler. Fuck, Tyler went through this for _ages_ , and the only way Patrick was getting out of here was if Blurry got Tyler back. Patrick didn't want that.

 

“You better have a fucking plan, asshole,” Patrick muttered under his breath, and he got up carefully, wincing when he realized the kind of bruises he must’ve had, and what he must’ve looked like; he could definitely feel blood on his face, but whether it was from his injury or from Blurry he wasn’t sure. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

 

He dusted himself off carefully before he eyed the bed and went back over to it, and he sat on it, pulling his knees up to his chest as he leaned back against the wall to wait. The bed looked like it was the only _clean_ thing in the room; the sheets were fresh, at least, and there didn’t appear to be any bloodstains around it.

 

And _god_  if being around all these bodies, all this _blood_ and these vampires didn’t make him feel ill. It felt far too much like when he first discovered his family’s bodies. Fuck, just thinking about it made his breathing speed up, and he curled in on himself further, clenching his eyes shut. What did the school psychologist tell him? 5 things he could see--well, that calming technique definitely wouldn’t help, because all he could see when he opened his eyes was those bodies, and the blood on the walls, and the floor, and--

 

_Calm down_ , Patrick told himself firmly. _You don’t need to have a panic attack here. Save it for after, idiot_.

 

He took a deep breath, and then another, breathing through his mouth so he didn’t have to smell the decay. If he closed his eyes it was almost like he was safe.

 

Almost.

 

 


	123. Chapter 123

He took the blankets and yanked them up over his head; sure, it made it harder to breath, but it was darker, and he couldn’t see anything, which he considered a plus. He just wanted to go _home_ , dammit--and god, how fucked up was it that he considered a mansion filled with vampires his home now?

 

He couldn’t deny that it was though. He liked everyone he had met, and he definitely liked that Joe was safe, and Andy was cool. And _god_ , as much as he denied it, he _did_  love Pete--in as much as he could love him, for only knowing him for a month.

 

Fuck. He was acting like a fucking Disney Princess or something. Waiting for his prince to come and rescue him or something. That was _not_  what he wanted to be remembered for, at all. Which meant he had to do something--he took a quiet breath, and tried to think.

 

He knew there was no way to get out of there by himself, which meant like, waiting or getting someone to get him out himself. Which meant either playing along or trying to get an ally. Which he wasn’t so keen on.

 

But if it meant keeping Tyler safe, and getting out alive...he’d do it, to be honest.

 

First things first then; he needed to find some way to contact someone from the house. He thought he overheard Bill saying something about spies in the base, so he just needed to find one. And get them to rescue him. Shit.

 

So, okay. He needs to just. Play nice and not talk back to Blurry-- or Shane, if he saw him again; gross.

 

He stayed under the covers while Blurry came in, and out, carrying bodies out of the room. The worst of it was that he was humming under his breath the entire time, like he was _enjoying_  it. He was enjoying the fact that he was scared, and he seemed to be enjoying the fact that he got to touch the bodies so casually.

 

Finally, Blurry spoke again. “You can come out now. I’m just going to clean up the blood. It’d be quite a favor if you helped me.”

 

Patrick stiffened up, and stayed silent, pretending to be asleep--just because he didn’t want to make them angry didn’t mean he wanted to touch dried blood.

When he didn’t answer, Blurry sighed, and dropped whatever he was holding. “This isn’t very nice you know. Here I am, offering you my bed and my room, as well as my protection, and you refuse to help me with a simple task.”

 

Patrick, very reluctantly, sat up, letting the blankets pool at his waist. “What do you want, Blurryface,” he said, trying to seem non-confrontational.

 

Blurry beamed at him--it was fucking _weird_  seeing Tyler’s face in someone as scary as Blurry; he looked much nicer that way, but it was admittedly not much, because of the fangs. He _did_  notice though that Blurry had been thoughtful enough to clean his arms and neck of the paint, and change clothes. He really, _really_  looked like Tyler when he did that.

 

“Well, like I said, I want to clean up around here--it’s a bit too dark for your human eyes, especially since you wear glasses. Plus I’ve been meaning to do a bit of spring cleaning in here. The walls are a bit too bloodstained, don’t you think? It means I can’t really do my art very well, seeing as it’d be covered up by the old.”

 

Patrick swallowed hard, and didn’t answer him, eyeing the surrounding walls. And yeah, they were definitely covered in blood. It looked like he had been using the room for years, not just however long he’d been staying there after finding Tyler.

 

Patrick startled when Blurry wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Deep thoughts, hm? Whatever could you be thinking about? Let’s see--”

 

“Don’t.” He said quietly. “You don’t have to read my mind, or whatever it is you do. I’m just thinking about how long the walls have looked like this, that’s all.” Patrick very carefully stayed still under Blurry’s arm, trying not to flinch when he leaned in close, breath grazing his neck.

 

 


	124. Chapter 124

It was only when Blurry laughed directly in his ear that Patrick finally tried to yank away. “That’s _almost_  a truth,” Blurry said, sounding amused. “But I’ll let it slide, since you’re going to be helping me. How about I clean the walls, and you clean the floor? I promise you won’t find any stray body parts lying around.”

 

Patrick twitched, just a bit. “You know, I really think I’d rather the walls. Er. If that’s okay, I mean. I’m better at those.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re tiny, you can’t reach all the nooks and crannies that I can. Nice try though. I’ll get you a broom and a mop.”

 

“Or,” Patrick said rather desperately, “we could _both_  do the walls, so we can get it done faster. And, um. Then you can make pretty pictures, and stuff. Please?”

 

Blurry bounced on his toes, and finally shrugged. “Fine, but only because I want to get this done all quickly. Do you know _why_?”

 

Patrick tried not to sigh. “Because--you want to paint the walls again?”

 

Blurry giggled. “Correct. The sooner it’s finished, and the sooner you’re gone...it means more fun for me.” He paused, considering. “Well, I may get impatient and start while you’re here. It really just depends.”

 

Some of Patrick’s horror must have shown on his face, because Blurry patted his cheek, just a bit too roughly. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t use _your_  blood.”

 

“Oh, well. That’s great, thanks,” Patrick said faintly, looking pale.

 

Blurry grinned at him, and finally backed away. “Excellent,” he said cheerfully. “You get to pick the sponge you want, seeing as you wanted to do this with me.”

 

“Who knows, maybe we can bond over this,” he said, and Patrick stepped over to the bucket--thankfully filled only with what appeared to be water and soap, and grabbed a random sponge that was soaking in the bucket.

 

Blurry fell in step next to him, and grabbed the other sponge, before gesturing over to the wall near the door. “You can do that wall. I’ll do the one that’s dirtiest, since I made the most of the mess.”

 

“Most?” Patrick said quietly, and Blurry hummed, walking to the wall  and beginning to scrub.

 

“Yes, most. Sometimes they were naughty and tried to escape, and they spread their blood, to make sure I couldn’t. Very rude, don’t you think?”

 

Patrick had to stifle a nervous giggle, and walked as quickly as he could toward the wall, and got to work so he didn’t have to answer. Apparently his silence didn’t dissuade Blurry though; he just kept talking.

 

“You know, you almost remind me of Tyler, back when I first saved him,” he said casually, and Patrick stiffened up, sponged pressed against the wall.

 

Blurry smirked to himself, and kept scrubbing. “Yes--you don’t look anything like him, obviously, but he was nervous like you. His blood smelled different obviously. Mm, I can still _taste_  it--smelled like flowers, but he tasted like chocolate. _Very_  nice. You smell like strawberries and cream though. I wonder how many times your fiance has had to stop himself from just sinking his teeth into your neck.”

 

When Patrick didn’t respond, Blurry sighed. “I’m taking that as a no then. Tell him though--or I may tell him, because you aren’t likely too--but blood from the femoral artery tastes the _best_.”

 

“That’s--” Patrick’s voice cracked, so he cleared his throat. “That’s very interesting. Can we stop talking about this please?”

 

“But why?” Blurry asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I’m just bonding with you. Telling you things that I think are interesting. Like, for instance, did you know how _paranoid_  Tyler was when he first saw me? He thought he was seeing things! Like a was a doppelganger. He thought it meant he was going to die soon--I guess he was right though.

  
“Granted, I didn’t _want_  to turn him--not at the time. He just tasted so good that I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to be the only person to taste his blood, and I was. That’s all that matters.”


	125. Chapter 125

Patrick gritted his teeth, and began scrubbing again. “Can we _please_  stop talking about this? Seriously, I don’t want to hear about you or Tyler right now, thank you.”

 

Blurry sighed, sounding annoyed. “Fine, fine. I won’t talk about how nice Tyler tasted, or how much he cried out in his sleep when I bit him. And I definitely won’t tell you about how much I wished he was awake for it all. Or how--”

 

“I get it,” Patrick yelped out, dropping the sponge. “Holy shit, I get it. You’re evil, and fucking a sadistic murderer. I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do with this information, especially since I already _knew_  all of this.”

 

He didn’t look back at Blurry, but he could tell he was pouting when he replied. “Fine, I’ll shut up--so long as you tell me about your life--both before your family’s bodies were found, and after.”

 

“For fuck’s sake--I’m not going to tell you about the trauma I experienced when I saw my family dead. Just drop it please? Can we be quiet while I help you soak up the blood that _you_  put on these walls?”

 

Blurry frowned a bit, but shrugged, and let Patrick turn back around and start scrubbing again, and there was silence for a few, long, glorious minutes. Patrick loved it, even if he was scrubbing dried blood off the walls for a creepy asshole (who, truth be told, wasn't _that_  bad most of the time).

 

That was, until he started up again. "So," Blurry said, not bothering to look at Patrick, when are you going to discuss your fear of intimacy and being close to people with your partner? Because it has to come up sometime."

 

Patrick sighed, and would've slammed his head into the wall to get the sweet embrace of sleep, but he didn't want to clean blood off his face. "I don't know what you mean," he finally replied through gritted teeth. "Now will you please stop digging through my mind?"

 

"I can't, I'm afraid."

 

At least he sounded a little apologetic--

 

"It's sort of my thing, you see." Never mind then.

 

"What does that mean," Patrick said, sounding tired.

 

"It means that I dig into people's heads, see what makes them tick and break it down, and pick at their insecurities until they break. You should _see_  some of the nightmares Tyler's had about it. The stuff he buried deep I brought up again, just because I could. Like why you're playing music. It's because of your father, right? He was a musical and he raised you to be one, and you kept it up because you thought it would make him want to stay."

 

Patrick dropped the sponge, and rubbed his forehead. “No, no I didn’t. I play music because I like playing music, and how it makes me feel. To be honest, I couldn’t have given less of a shit if my dad stayed or not. Would I have liked it if he had the choice and did? Yes. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead now, and I’m not about to shit talk him to you. Back _off_  Blurryface.”

 

Blurry whirled around to study him through narrowed eyes, and his voice remained coolly cheerful as he replied. “You know, Patrick, I don’t think you want to talk that way to me. I’ve been nice, up to this point, haven’t I? Do you really want me to _stop_  being nice? Because I can, easily, and it’d be far more fun than this.”

 

Patrick stared at him silently, wide eyed, as Blurry stared him down, an eerie smile on his face. Patrick was the first to look away, of course, and he muttered an “I’m sorry,” before he bent down to pick up the sponge. Blurry continued to watch him until he turned around and began scrubbing again, and he let him continue for several minutes before he sighed.

 

“This is boring. Let’s talk more about your intimacy issues and how you’re terrified of kissing your fiance because you think he might bite you, or hurt you if you share that experience with him.”

 

“I’d rather not, please. In fact, why don’t you just make me go to sleep again. I think that would be much better than this, please.”

 

“Oh, so now you’re trying to get out of work, huh? How is that fair? And I asked you a question, Patrick, I expect you to answer it, or I’ll drag it out of you.”

 

Now Patrick was getting snippy, and annoyed. “I’m trying to be polite,” he said carefully, “but you didn’t ask me a question, and I would really rather not talk about my issues with you. I don’t believe you have a doctorate, so.”

 

“Why would I need one,” Blurry asked, sounding honestly bewildered. “Unlike other people, I can see in your _head_. I don’t need to psychoanalyze you when I already know exactly what you’re thinking. And no, I’m not going to knock you out, or have Shane do it, but if you’d rather, you could always go sit with him. I bet he’d love your fear, I know I do.”

  
“Thanks,” Patrick said faintly. “I’m glad someone’s enjoying himself here.”


	126. Chapter 126

“Are you not? We’re sharing information about ourselves, and bonding. Isn’t that what friends do?”

 

“Friends don’t look inside their friend’s heads and talk about their innermost secrets without their permission though,” Patrick countered. “And I doubt you want to be friends with me anyways. Why don’t you just lock me up in a room by myself until Pete comes to get me. I think that would be a fitting punishment, don’t you?”

 

“I don’t want to punish you though. We’re bonding, because I like what’s inside your head. It’s very nice--all sorts of trauma, like the nightmares, and the trust issues--I love it. I haven’t seen a mind this nice since Tyler’s--and, no offense, but his is still nicer than yours. But that’s only because I had a hand in making it that way, I’m sure if I had enough time I could do the same with you.”

 

Patrick made a weird face, and shook his head. “Okay,” he said slowly, “well that’s, um, something? But I don’t really want that--how long am I stuck here again?”

 

“Don’t think of it as ‘stuck,’ think of it as a sleepover--that’s the word, right? Tyler used it before.” He paused, and tilted his head. “Nevertheless though, you’re having a _sleepover_  until the new moon. It’ll be _fun_.”

 

“You and I have very different definitions of fun,” Patrick muttered, before he shook his head. “Right, um. Are you planning on like, _feeding_  me, while I’m here? Or letting me go to the bathroom?”

 

“Of course--you’ll have to have a guard though, obviously.” Blurry narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “And I suppose they could do take out or something for you.” He brightened, “which means fresh blood from the delivery person, won’t that be absolutely delicious?”

 

“On second thought, you really don’t need to feed me.” Patrick said quickly. “No need for take out, or anything like that.”

 

“But that would defeat the whole reason for ordering something. Usually Morris just tosses it, but now we have a reason to order in.” Blurry sighed. “I remember the good old days, where we had to hunt for our victims. Seduce them and then drain them completely.” His eyes were looking past Patrick, like he was remembering something.

 

Patrick shifted a bit, and coughed lightly. “Well, um.” He said, his voice higher than usually. “Let’s not do this, okay? Let’s just calm down, stop thinking about eating anything--anyone, really. Let’s just. Not.”

 

Blurry focused back on him, studying him slowly, and Patrick only just resisted covering his neck. “Fine, I _guess_. We’ll stop talking about it, but remember where your food’s coming from.” He winked, and Patrick swallowed hard.

 

Evidently that was enough for Blurry, because he turned around and began humming again as Patrick stared at his back, nearly gaping.

 

“I--you--”

 

“Shhh,” Blurry said, and Patrick’s mouth snapped shut.

 

He started glaring instead, and flipped Blurry off, before grabbing the sponge again, and scrubbing the wall, viciously, imagining it was Blurry’s face.

 

If he noticed, he didn’t mention it, just hummed a bit louder. “You know, I’ve heard wonderful things about your singing voice. It’s a pity that you’re being so rude though, otherwise I’d get you to join in.”

 

Patrick eyed the clean patch he made on the wall, and wondered idly if he could knock himself out if he hit his head against it hard enough.

 

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” Blurry said, still scrubbing. “If you knock yourself out, I might be tempted to see what your blood tastes like, if you’re laying there all vulnerable.”

 

That made Patrick hurry up and keep scrubbing, getting more into it, if only to block out Blurry’s voice, and to get the more of the wall clean. He didn’t want to look at his hands, because he knew there was blood on them, and fuck, he hated it. He just wanted to go _home_ , dammit.

 

 


	127. Chapter 127

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some self harm mentions in this chapter--not graphic, but mentioned.

After a few hours of silence, Blurry sighed, and dropped the sponge, examining his hands. “Well, as fun as this was, there are more important things to do--you can talk now, by the way.”

 

Patrick remained stubbornly silent, still scrubbing. Blurry watched him for a moments, and leaned back against the wall. “I said, _talk_.”

 

Patrick didn’t look at him. “Fuck _you_ ,” he gritted out. “If I don’t want to talk, then why the fuck are you making me? And for that matter--”

 

“You can stop talking now,” Blurry said, and then he giggled. “I forget myself sometimes--forget how I can make you keep talking until you’re blue in the face; it’s a terrible way to die, I’ve found. You wouldn’t like it--I know that, hmm--what was his name? Mark, I believe--he got chatty when he was nervous, so I had him keep talking until he couldn’t breathe. After that I put him out of his misery--I didn’t want his body to get cold before I could drink, after all.”

 

“Great, thanks,” Patrick said, and he finally dropped the sponge. “Can we not discuss you killing people? Like, if you want to be my friend so bad, you should really just chill out.”

 

Blurry straightened up and pouted. “That’s not very fair--I’m only talking about what I care about, that’s all.”

 

“Well I _don’t_  care about it. Can we just not talk at all again? That was good.”

 

“But then I can’t ask you what you want to eat,” he countered back, faux innocently. “I was personally thinking about Chinese myself. _Very_  fast service, I’ve found.”

 

“Or I could just not be hungry, and you could not order things. That would be just fine too.”

 

Blurry looked at him blankly. “I don’t see why you’re protesting that much. Everyone has to eat, and even if you refuse, we’re still going to go out and drain people.”

 

He suddenly got a devious looking smirk on his face. “Or, if you _really_  want to save someone, you could let me have some of your blood. I wouldn’t take much--wouldn’t even bite you, I swear. I’m just so _hungry_ \--”

 

Patrick swallowed hard, and backed up a step, bumping into the wall. “No, no thank you. I don’t want that, thank you. Let’s just not order things, and if I’m not eating, you don’t need to eat either.”

 

Blurry sighed, and went to sit on the bed. “Or, I’ll tell you what. You let me have some of your blood, and I’ll get you something to eat-- _and_  I make sure the delivery person gets out of here alive.”

 

Patrick paused for a moment, deliberating, before he licked his lips. “How are you going to even get to my blood if you aren’t going to bite me?”

 

Blurry absolutely beamed at him, and pulled something out of his pocket, popping it open. Patrick swallowed hard when he saw the gleaming blade of the knife. “Oh,” he said in a tiny voice. “So that’s, um, something.”

 

“Isn’t it just? So, I cut you with this--just a little, enough to make you bleed, but not enough to injure you--and you let me drink from you. And then I can get you pizza, or something.” He looked thoughtful. “Maybe if we’re _really_  lucky they’ll let me borrow the car, so there won’t be any need for a delivery person.”

 

Patrick waffled on the decision, twisting his hands together, and watched as Blurry kept tossing the knife back and forth in his hands, miraculously not cutting himself. “Well?” He asked, starting to look annoyed.

 

“Okay, okay,” Patrick finally said, putting his hands up. “You can, like--give me the knife, and I’ll do it, okay? I’d really rather not have you cut me.”

 

Blurry’s expression was mulish, but he flipped the knife closed, and handed it over. “You even try to come after me with that, I’ll pin you to the floor and bite you. And keep in mind that if you even _try_ , I’ll start controlling the knife instead, and I think you enjoy use of your hands, don’t you?”

 

“I wasn’t gonna,” Patrick muttered under his breath, and he took the knife from Blurry, brushing his thumb over the handle before he took a deep breath and flipped it open. “How do I do this then?”

  
Blurry leaned forward and smiled, eyeing the curve of Patrick’s throat. “Well,” he said, drawing out the word, “you just press it right up against where you want to bleed, and then I’ll do the rest.” 


	128. Chapter 128

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning again for self harm

“Oh, so nowhere then?” Patrick mumbled out, but he turned his wrist over and pressed the knife to it, wincing as he pressed down hard enough so that he began to bleed, and Blurry inhaled and nearly lunged forward, grabbing Patrick’s arm and bringing his mouth down to lap at the blood.

 

Patrick stayed still, swallowed hard and averted his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to watch; the hungry noises and the feeling of Blurry’s mouth against his wrist. He could feel his teeth, pressed dangerously close to his veins. He was terrified that any movement would make his fangs pierce his arm, and fuck, he does not want that--he didn’t want to let Blurry have a taste in the first place.

 

Finally Blurry pulled away, licking his lips and swiping the blood off of his chin. “Sorry about this,” he said, sounding amused. “I’m a _terribly_  messy eater, you know how it is. And besides that, your blood tastes _delicious_. Very pure, and sweet. I’m sure you have a lot of people out for it, I’m guessing?”

 

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Can I have my arm back please? You’re going to bruise me.”

 

“Better a bruise than a bite mark, though, don’t you think?” Still though, Blurry released his arm, sucking on his fingers lazily to get the last taste of blood. Patrick had to look away, cradling his arm close.

 

“Now then, how about that food? I promise I won’t eat the delivery person--then I’d have to bring them back here, and I know you wouldn’t appreciate the fresh body lying around.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” Patrick said, and he thought for a moment, before, “I don’t know, pizza or something maybe?”

 

Blurry looked amused. “Do you really believe the rumors that vampires are scared off by garlic? Because that’s only a rumor--the first vampires were Italians, and all.”

 

“I did _not_  know that, but I did know they were just rumors. Now can you just order it and, I dunno, give me the money so I can pay? That way you--and none of the other vampires--can’t freak the guy out. Or, you know, eat them.”

 

“Do you really think I’d go back on my word like that? Really? I’m _hurt_ , truly.”

 

“No, I just don’t trust the other vampires. So can we please just, you know. Go wait by the door? Or maybe even, I don’t know, go out and get it ourselves.”

 

Blurry narrowed his eyes, and no longer looked amused, studying Patrick’s face for a moment, before he finally relaxed.

 

“You’re not going to try and run away, are you? Because that’d be _very_  troubling.”

 

Patrick swallowed hard. “I’m not going to run away. I just want the delivery person to be alive when they leave here, that’s all.”

 

“Hm, I _suppose_  I could allow that--but, on one condition; you have to let me into your mind while we’re doing this, so I can make sure you don’t try anything.” At Patrick’s look of disbelief, Blurry looked innocent. “At least I’m asking permission first--I could just get into your mind without consent.”

 

Patrick twitched, and stared up at Blurry. “Um, that’s not actually reassuring.”

 

Blurry just stared at him and folded his arms. “Either way, I’m not letting you out of this room unless you consent.”

 

Patrick hesitated for a moment before he finally nodded. “Okay,” he said reluctantly, “But only for this one moment--and don’t make me do anything like, too awful.”

 

Blurry grinned at him, all fang, and tilted Patrick’s head up to look him in the eye. “This’ll only take a moment--for you, anyways.”

  
Patrick found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of Blurry, and he crumpled to the ground, the faint sound of Blurry humming in his ears, and then he could hear him on the phone, but with the ringing in his ears he couldn’t hear much else.


	129. Chapter 129

When Blurry got off the phone he studied Patrick for a moment, who hadn’t moved at all, staring down at the floor, and then he tilted Patrick’s face up, smiling in delight at the blank look in his eyes.

 

With just a thought he had Patrick stand, and Blurry grabbed his wrist, squeezing over the knife mark as he tugged Patrick along.

 

“We’re going to the bathroom first,” Blurry said casually, not expecting an answer. “I don’t think the person would really like seeing us with blood on our arms, would they?”

 

He was humming as he pulled Patrick out of the door and towards the bathrooms, Patrick following docilely behind Blurry; he didn’t need to be pulled, not really, he’d follow anyways, but frankly it was more fun to drag him, the other vampires staring after them both silently. They had all learned by now that the only person who could really get away with talking to Blurry was Morris, and that was only when he was in a good mood.

 

When they got to the bathroom it only took a look from Blurry for it to clear out, and then he motioned Patrick towards the sinks, going over as well to wash his own hands off. It was easy enough to direct him on exactly what to do, and Patrick washed his hands on mechanically as Blurry watched him, pleased, and did the same.

 

After that it was easy to get follow him to the front door; this time he didn’t even hold his wrist, just let him follow at his own pace, the people in the hall parting for them quickly, and when they got to the door Blurry checked his phone and sighed.

 

“Looks like we’ve still got another twenty minutes or so until they show up,” he said, tapping his fingers on his thigh. “You may want to sit down, it’ll be a while.”

 

Patrick obediently sank to the ground, and Blurry leaned against the wall next to him, looking at something on his phone as they waited, and after about five minutes Blurry put his phone away, dropping his hand down to touch Patrick’s head, stroking his hair idly.

 

They were attracting more than a few stares, but Blurry took no notice of it, just kept glancing around as if he was bored, until Morris showed up, staring them down.

 

“What,” he said slowly, “exactly are you doing?”

 

Blurry blinked and looked at him, still stroking Patrick’s hair. “What does it look like? We’re waiting for pizza.”

 

Morris squinted at him disbelievingly. “Pizza. Right, okay. And why didn’t you have someone bring you the pizza, instead of dragging him out here?”

 

“Well, one, I didn’t drag him out here--he came willingly, didn’t you Patrick?” Patrick nodded, not looking up at either of them. “And two, he made me promise that no one would eat the person bringing the pizza, and he insisted that he be there to make sure they didn’t die.”

 

Morris finally looked down at Patrick, who silently stared back at him, eyes blank. “You put him under then, I’m guessing? Because he was a bratty little shit when we grabbed him.”

 

“Personally, I like his voice; he’s very quick with his comebacks. But I also like him just fine like this; very well behaved, don’t you think?”

 

Morris finally tore his gaze away from Patrick, and shrugged. “Yeah, duh. He’s not saying anything and he’s not fighting back; that’s more than good enough for me. You think you could keep him like this until they show up to get him?”

 

Blurry pouted a little, and shrugged. “As much as I’d like to, I promised him I’d only keep him like this while we get the pizza--”

 

“Since when do you listen to humans?” Morris asked, sounded a bit shocked, and disgusted.

 

Blurry shrugged, and looked down at Patrick. “Since he consented to be like this--you can’t just get that from anyone. And he’s _fascinating_. He let me drink from him because he wanted to protect someone he never met, and he consented to this without a thought because he didn’t want them to die. It’s interesting, how he thinks.”

  
“Just don’t get too obsessed,” Morris finally warned. “I don’t want him around any longer than he has to be--he’s more trouble than he’s worth, and I don’t want Wentz riding my ass because we went back on the deal that _you_  made.”


	130. Chapter 130

Blurry waved his hand at Morris. “Wentz will die soon anyways, so I don’t really see your point--unless you think we’re going to fail?”

 

Morris took a step back at Blurry’s tone, and shook his head. “No, no, of course not. I’m just saying that we’re going to have to give him back to seem like we have a truce--meaning we can’t keep him.”

 

Blurry pouted a bit more, and tightened his hand in Patrick’s hair. It must’ve hurt, but there was no noise from Patrick, and he didn’t even blink. Morris was more than a bit unsettled, truthfully. “Fine, but when you kill Wentz, you better make sure he comes back to me--no one else touches him, got it?”

 

“Fine, fine, I understand. You can keep him, and the Tyler kid too, I don’t give a shit. Just make sure to feed them and take them out for walks or whatever.”

 

“Excellent, but I really wasn’t asking your permission. Now get out of here, I just heard a car pull up, and I don’t want you scaring away the food--the pizza, not the driver.”

 

Morris rolled his eyes and backed up more, putting his hands in front of him protectively. “Yeah, yeah, enjoy yourself. Make sure to leave a nice big tip, I want them coming back--we don’t usually get deliveries out here, they’re usually scared, for some reason.” He laughed, eyes flicking down to Patrick once more, before he turned around and left.

 

Blurry released his hold on Patrick’s hair and smoothed it out, letting Patrick get to his feet. “Now,” he said, “you’re going to pay for the pizza, just like you wanted, and then we’ll watch the person go back to their car and drive off. Is that going to make you happy?”

 

He tilted his head, watching Patrick, who didn’t even blink. “I’m taking that as a yes then. Here’s the money.”

 

Patrick took it from him obediently, and when the person knocked on the door he answered it with a smile. The delivery person, who was juggling the bag and their wallet, smiled back, and then glanced at the receipt.

 

“Um, your total is 17.96$,” they said, and then they handed over the receipt so they could open the hot bag. Patrick took it from them and immediately handed over the bill, which they took, shoving it under their arm so they could take the pizzas out and hand them over. When they finally glanced at the bill though, they faltered.

 

“Uh. Sir? We can’t--company policy dictates that we can only take twenty dollar bills or less. This is a hundred dollar bill.”

 

Blurry leaned in, wrapping an arm around Patrick’s shoulders to smile charmingly at them, and they faltered, evidently seeing the fangs. They backed up a step, but still held out the bill. “I really can’t accept this.”

 

“Why not though? We don’t want any money back--that’s a big tip, isn’t it?”

 

“Well, I guess, but--I still can’t accept this. Please, I can only take twenty dollar bills or lower.”

 

Blurry sighed and straightened up, pulling out his wallet as he snatched the bill back from them, which made them flinch back, taking another step and glancing at Patrick, who remained silent. Finally though, Blurry found what he was looking for and made a triumphant noise. “Here you are--twenty dollars for the food, and twenty dollars for you. Is this sufficient?”

 

They gaped at him, and accepted the bills with shaking fingers. “Um. Thank you? Have a nice night and I hope you enjoy?”

 

“Oh, we will--Devin, was it? _Very_  nice to meet you. We’d like it if you were the one to deliver tomorrow as well.”

 

They blinked, and said slowly, “I don’t have a shift tomorrow, and our company policy is not to take driver suggestions. I’m sorry?”

 

Blurry pouted at them, and amazingly, they blushed, even more so when he inhaled deliberately. “Are you sure about that? How about I call you tomorrow and tell you what I want to order, and you’ll bring it here, won’t you.” His voice had taken on a more commanding edge, and without realizing it they nodded.

 

“Of course sir--if you hand me the receipt I’ll write my number down for you--?”

 

“Oh, there won’t be a need for that,” he said. “Now you should leave soon--your shift is almost over isn’t it?”

 

They nodded, and turned around, wandering back to their car, and both Patrick and Blurry watched as they got back in their car and drove off.

 

“There you are. They’re all safe and sound now--no one ate them and they drove off completely unharmed. Let’s get back to the room now.”

 

Patrick followed him in a daze, still holding the pizzas, and when they got back to the room and Blurry closed the door, Patrick set the pizzas down on the bed and then abruptly sank onto the bed clutching his head.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned out, rubbing his forehead, and Blurry leaned against the wall to watch, his expression amused. Too soon for his tastes though, Patrick looked up at him and narrowed his eyes. “You _asshole_ \--you can’t invite that poor person back and then bite them, that’s against our agreement!”

 

“No it’s not,” he said calmly. “I said--”

 

“I know what you said,” Patrick snapped at him, glaring. “You said you wouldn’t eat them--that implies that you won’t eat them _ever_ , thank you.”

 

“Just because I won’t eat them doesn’t mean I won’t bite them. You may not have been able to smell them, but it was _lovely_ \--like cinnamon sugar. I want a taste, seeing as you barely gave me anything at all.”

 

“I gave you what you wanted, you can’t eat them--you _promised_!”

 

“I did no such thing, and frankly, I’m offended you would suggest that. Now be good and eat your food.”

 

Even if Patrick couldn’t fight against the order he still made a face and flipped him off before he opened the box and grabbed a slice, taking a bite. With his mouth full he spoke, “I really fucking hate you, and if you kill that person I will murder you.”

 

“It’s sweet how you think that’s going to happen. And for your sake, I won’t kill them; I’ll just drink from them a little, and send them on their way.”

 

Patrick swallowed his bite and shook his head. “No, you’re going to walk them back to their car--with me--and then we’re going to watch them drive off safely. No one’s killing them; not you or anyone else in here.”

 

“You never said anything about biting them though, and I only said--”

  
“You said they’d get out of here alive, and that’s what’s going to happen. You’re not gonna like, turn them, or any bullshit like that, because that’s not what this is about. You shouldn’t have even told them to come back,” Patrick said, turning the full weight of his puppy dog eyes on Blurry.


	131. Chapter 131

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which fic should I update next? http://goo.gl/KNDRe1

It was a pity Blurry had grown immune to them long ago. He blew as raspberry at Patrick, remarkably childish, and it made Patrick falter, a confused look on his face. “Don’t worry about it. They’ll get out of here alive, if only because I want a taste, and may want them to come back for more--oh, what, too truthful?”

 

Patrick crossed his arms and glared at Blurry, making a rude gesture. “You’re such an asshole. Can’t you get blood from blood banks or drink coconut water like a vampire who _doesn’t_  kill people?”

 

“But I _like_  killing people. It builds character, and it’s so fun to come up with creative ways for them to die. Plus fresh blood is so much _better_  than bagged.”

 

“That doesn’t give you the right to torture people though,” Patrick said weakly, scooting back on the bed just a little.

 

Blurry noticed, and grinned, snapping his teeth at Patrick teasingly. “I’ll tell you what--I won’t kill them or anyone else while you’re here, how’s that?”

 

“Or you don’t kill them at all, _ever_ \--please?” He hesitated, taking another bite so he could use the time to gather his thoughts. Blurry waited patiently, leaning back against the wall, his legs crossed as he watched Patrick.

 

When he finished his bite he took a deep breath, before clenching his fists. “What do I have to do to make sure you don’t ever kill that person--or let anyone else kill them?”

 

“I want more of your blood,” Blurry said immediately. “I won’t drain you, or anything like that, but while you’re here I want access to your blood anytime I want. In return I swear that I’ll make sure they come and go freely, and won’t die. Do we have an agreement?”

 

Patrick took a shaky breath, before he nodded firmly. “Yes, okay. But if you’re going to drink from me, at least let me finish my food first. Can you do that?”

 

“Why can’t I do it while you’re eating? That sounds more fun, and I’m _hungry_.”

 

“Yeah, but I won’t eat any more if you do that, and then I’ll get woozy and you’d have to deal with me throwing up. Now _please_  let me finish this?”

 

Blurry waved his hand at Patrick to continue. “Fine, fine.” He paused for a moment, letting Patrick take a bite. “We’ll still have the conditions, where I take control when you’re out of this room, _but_ , in here I’ll let you witness me drinking from them, so you know I won’t kill them.”

 

Patrick’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at Blurry like he was searching for a lie, but Blurry’s face was innocent, and finally Patrick relaxed. “I--okay, I’ll agree to that, I guess?”

 

“Good, good. Of course, I’m going to need you to not talk or anything like that while I’m feeding from them, you know what I mean? I don’t want you freaking out because of how I’m drinking from them.”

 

Patrick swallowed hard, and nodded, taking another bite in lieu of an answer. Blurry seemed satisfied anyways, and dropped his head back against the wall, humming a little as he waited for Patrick to finish. Whether he knew it or not though, Patrick had slowed down quite a bit, as if savoring each bite, but the truth was he really didn’t want his blood drank again, but since they had a deal…

 

Thankfully, Blurry didn’t seem to care how long he was taking, because he allowed Patrick to finish off what he wanted before Patrick set aside the food and Blurry came over to sit on the bed next to him, cocking an eyebrow at him.

 

“So,” he said, drawing out the vowel, “would you rather I bite you, or do you want the knife again?”

 

Patrick held his hand out, surprised when his voice didn’t waver. “The knife, please. I’d really rather not have bite marks on my arms.”

 

Blurry pouted just a little, but dropped the knife into Patrick’s hand, and watched hungrily as Patrick flicked the knife open and swallowed hard, closing his eyes before he pressed the knife down against his wrist, hissing when he began to bleed.

 

It made Blurry's eyes gleam and he licked his lips as Patrick took the knife away from his arm and grimaced at the blood, moving to wipe it on his jeans. Blurry's hand lashed out to grab it and Patrick blinked, dropping the knife before Blurry could yank it out of his hand.

 

Blurry hummed as he licked it clean before closing it, and then he grabbed Patrick's wrist, right above the cut and squeezed, which made Patrick yelp. He cut himself off though when Blurry lowered his mouth to lick at the blood already running down his arm, and tried not to tense up when he felt his fangs.

 

"Mm, tell me if you get too dizzy," Blurry muttered into his arm before he began lapping at the blood, and Patrick nodded tightly, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

 

"Okay, okay--I can do that, just--take what you need, and be finished already."

 

Blurry rolled his eyes but didn't respond, too busy drinking, and Patrick had to look away, getting sick just watching him. Fuck, that was his _blood_ , and Blurry was--he was, well drinking it, after Patrick had sworn up and down that he wouldn't let anyone do that.

 

It was for a good cause, he reminded himself. He wouldn't die from it, nor would the poor delivery driver, which was a good thing, dammit. Plus he wouldn't have any bite marks or anything, and he'd rather his wrist than his neck.

 

It was hard to distract himself from it when Blurry just kept making _noises_  though. Tiny hungry ones, along with moans, and fuck, he really wished Blurry didn't enjoy it so much, because it made it very hard to tune out.

 

Finally though, he pulled his arm out of Blurry's hold, who let him go willingly, although he did whine just a little and eye his wrist longingly. Patrick shook his head. "Enough, I don't feel good."

 

Blurry pouted (and goddammit, all he could think of is Tyler when he did that, how was that even fair?)  and licked his lips (Patrick’s eyes followed the movement before he shook himself out of it), sitting up straight so Patrick could wipe his wrist clean, hissing a little at the sting of it.

 

It just made Blurry eye him hungrily again, and Patrick coughed a little to break the silence. “So, um. That was something. I don’t feel very good though,” he said, and he tried to stand before sitting down again abruptly, too dizzy for anything else.

 

Blurry sighed. “I _am_  sorry about that. I’ve found that you never know how bad it is until you stand--my apologies. Why don’t you go ahead and sleep it off, hm? Won’t that be nice?”

  
Patrick definitely heard the edge of command in his voice as he said it, and he frowned, managing to slur out, “you fucker,” before his eyes fluttered closed and he fell back on the bed, asleep. 


	132. Chapter 132

Blurry was humming as he picked up the food and narrowed his eyes a little, considering it, before he finally shrugged and went to put it in the fridge, next to what appeared to be a bottle of something blood red, and a hand. Once he was finished with that though, he stood over Patrick, just to stare at him.

 

He was sprawled out, legs hanging off the bed as he slept, with his hands on his chest, and Blurry licked his lips again when he saw the freshly healed cut, like he was deliberating on whether to open it again. Ultimately though, he shook the thought off and sighed, before picking Patrick up easily and positioning him better on the bed, so he could pull the covers over him.

 

After that, he just crawled into bed next to him--he didn’t get under the sheets because he didn’t need them, nor did he really want to sleep, but he wanted to observe Patrick while he slept, and it was the easiest way. Plus it would catch him off guard, and Blurry _thrived_  on fear, really.

 

So he sat up and waited patiently for Patrick to wake up. It was actually pretty boring, truthfully. Patrick just slept, the only thing showing that he was still alive was his chest moving as he breathed, and the sound of it.

 

Otherwise, he didn't stir, laid still like he was dead, and Blurry was almost disappointed that he didn't move much. Looked like his joke about kicking in his sleep was untrue. Boring.

 

When he finally woke up though, it was slow--stirring a little, until Blurry grabbed hold of his arm so he would calm down, and that made Patrick go still again.

 

"I can hear your breathing, you know," Blurry informed him. "It's really silly of you to pretend that you're dead when I can see that you aren't--unless you want me to play with you like I do all my lifeless corpses."

 

Patrick swallowed hard, but began breathing carefully again, sitting up to move out of Blurry's hold.

 

"How long have you been there," Patrick asked. "Because it's seriously creepy that you were watching me sleep."

 

Blurry rolled his eyes. "How exactly is it creepy? This is my bed, and you're in it." He paused. "If it makes you feel any better, you're fairly boring when you sleep. No dreams that I could see either."

 

"I'm so _sorry_  to have bored you have you ordered me to sleep--wait. This wasn't how I fell asleep?"

 

"I moved you. This was more comfortable for both of us, I thought."

 

“I think I would’ve been more comfortable hanging off the bed. With you not staring at me--or laying down next to me, thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome. But you were in _my_  bed, and really, it could have been much worse--you’re very warm, you know.”

 

Patrick blinked at the sudden change in subject. “Oh-kay? Thanks, I guess.”

 

“Mm. It’s all the delicious blood pumping through your veins. It was hard to stop myself from just taking, with you lying there all vulnerable.”

 

Patrick stared at him for one long, uncomfortable moment, before he scooted away. “Right,” he said weakly. “You know, before you said that I would’ve thought you were being sweet. Now you’re just creepy again.”

 

Blurry absolutely beamed at him, revealing gleaming fangs. “Why thank you. I do adore keeping people on their toes. It makes for some great entertainment.”

 

“So glad I can entertain you. Now, uh. What time is it? There’s no clocks or anything in here--”

 

“Why would that matter? You’re in here until I want you to not be in here--and that’ll be when we give you back to your fiance.” It made Patrick relax, just a little, until he saw the look on Blurry’s face.

 

He really didn’t want to ask, but--”Okay, I’ll bite--um, not literally, obviously. But when exactly will that be? And why do you look so--uh, upset? About that?”

 

“Because I’ve grown fond of you, I suppose. And your blood is delicious--not as good as Tyler’s was, of course, but it’s still good. And you’re _interesting_ \--one of the most interesting humans I’ve ever met, anyways, and you’re far more interesting than anyone else here.”

 

Patrick gaped at Blurry, who was slumped just a bit, red eyes looking sad--far more upset than Patrick would’ve ever suspected. “Um…”

 

Blurry shook himself out of it. “Nevermind. I’ll figure something out--” he brightened. “I’ll have Tyler back soon enough anyways, and this time he’ll _stay_  with me, even if I have to make sure he can’t leave.”

 

The slightly adorable moment was gone, and he was back to being creepy. Fantastic. “So, that doesn’t really explain when you’re giving me back though. You kind of just ignored that bit.”

 

Blurry shrugged, and leaned back against the wall, studying Patrick. “The new moon. We’re going to go to the park, and maybe swing on the swings, and then we throw you back at them, and I get Tyler back.”

 

“Okay. Well, uh. Quick Question?”

 

Blurry just blinked at him, and Patrick took that as the go-ahead to continue. “Right. Well, when exactly is the new moon? Like I said before, I don’t really know what time it is...or what day. Because _someone_  keeps making me fall asleep without my consent.”

 

“You said I could control you--”

 

“That was one time, and you did it before I even agreed to that one time. Stop making excuses, dick--um. I mean-- I’m sorry?”

 

Blurry didn’t even blink. “I’ve been called worse, although not in that sort of language. Tyler never cursed, you know--it made for some interesting insults.”

 

“Uh. That’s good? I guess. Why don’t we not talk about Tyler right now though--or ever. I would really rather not hear about how he was treated under your, um--’care.’”

 

Blurry narrowed his eyes at him, before his face smoothed out. “Fine. We can talk about something else then, like your aversion to being bitten. You do realize that one day you will be bitten, to turn you, yes?”

 

Patrick spluttered, and covered his neck protectively. “No I won’t be. He’s not going to bite me--no one is. And besides that, you’re only saying that so I’ll let you bite me rather than using the knife.”

 

“Biting is much more intimate though, and it’d be practice, for later.”

 

Patrick twitched. “I don’t want to be intimate with you, or anyone else, thank you. Let’s drop the subject, and go back to Tyler.”

 

“That’s not what your mind says,” Blurry said in a sing song voice. “You _desperately_  want to be intimate with Wentz, don’t you? Although your little trust issues are making that difficult.”

 

“Hey, it’s not an _issue_ , dammit. I just want to wait--and this isn’t any of your business anyways, so back off. Um, please.”

 

“Rude. I just want to help--”

 

“Offering to bite me when I’ve said I don’t want to be bitten isn’t helping, thanks.”

 

Blurry folded his arms. “At least I’m asking…”

 

“Okay, look. You’re swinging back and forth between creepy and nice, which isn’t really cool. Plus, like. You don’t get points for asking my consent when I have no choice but to say yes, so I mean. Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean. It’s not cute or funny.”

 

Blurry tilted his head, looking confused. “You didn’t have to say yes. I said you had to if you wanted to go with me--”

 

“And then I wouldn’t have known if that person got away--and then you went and told them to come here tomorrow, which is breaking our promise.” Patrick huffed. “Seriously, dude, I don’t trust you because you _kidnapped_  me, and you’ve shown that you don’t care about consent unless I have to give it.”

 

“So you would rather I not ask at all then?”

 

Patrick nearly groaned. At least he wasn’t trying to control him. “No, no. Look--this is me saying that you should ask for consent when you don’t know if I’m going to say yes or not.”

 

“What’s the point of that though? If you say no--”

 

“Then you’ve actually allowed me to give consent or take it away. Look, dude--Blurry, sorry--you really _really_  need to like,  calm down.”

 

“Why would I do that? Honestly, you seem to be forgetting that I’m _evil_ \--or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. Perhaps I’m just misunderstood?”

  
Patrick twitched. “Okay, no. You’re not misunderstood, and I don’t think you are. I don’t think anyone thinks that, to be honest. And you saying that isn’t going to make me think otherwise, or feel like I need to like--change you, or whatever. Just stop.”


	133. Chapter 133

Blurry dropped the innocent expression, and shrugged. “Too obvious, huh? You’d be surprised at how many people think they can change me--or that I want to be changed. It’s fascinating, really...I usually just pretend, and then when they think they really have made me a better person, I kill someone in front of them, and then I kill them. It’s very fun, seeing the expressions on their faces when I do that.”

 

Patrick looked horrified, which made Blurry giggle, grabbing Patrick and pulling him into a hug that he couldn’t squirm out of. “Aw, don’t fret--I won’t do that to _you_. You’re more fascinating than them, and it’s _very_  interesting to see how you tick. No, don’t worry, I won’t kill you.”

 

Patrick kept squirming, digging his nails into Blurry’s arms, which he didn’t react to. “That’s great,” he finally squeaked out. He coughed. “Really great. Now let me go, please.”

 

Blurry squeezed him harder, making Patrick wheeze as if he couldn’t breathe, before he abruptly released him. Patrick took deep breaths as Blurry watched, before finally moving away. “I fucking hate you.” He said dully.

 

“Even if that were true right now--which it’s not, by the way--you’ll change your mind soon enough--unless you do want to leave me?” He pouted, wide eyes and faux sad expression plastered on his face.

 

“Yeah, kind of,” Patrick said, eyeing him suspiciously.

 

“Really? You want to leave Tyler alone with me--no friends, no company, just me, his sire--you’d leave him here knowing he would hate it?”

 

Patrick paused, narrowing his eyes. “I really,  _really_  hate you. Stop trying to make me feel guilty, you ass.”

 

“Wow, rude,” he said, feigning an offended look. “It’s almost as if you _want_  me to be upset at you.”

 

Patrick moved to the corner of the bed, eyeing him warily. “Hey, hey, let’s not do that. I don’t want you to hurt me, but I’m not about to lie to you.”

 

Blurry hummed a little and leaned closer to him. "You really don't feel the slightest bit guilty?" He asked curiously. "Really? Not a bit? You'll be leaving him _forever_ \--and it's not like you can get him back. After I get him we're leaving, and you'll never see him again."

 

Patrick folded his arms, annoyed. "No, okay, I don't feel guilty, and I don't want to stay with you. Drop it, okay? My answers not going to change."

 

Blurry smiled at him crookedly. "Is that so? Well, Tyler, what do you think about that?"

 

The look on Patrick's face slowly morphed into a look of horror. "You set me up," he said quietly. "You asshole, you set me up."

 

Blurry studied his nails and smiled. "Perhaps, but he won't know that, will he? He just heard the last bit of it."

 

Patrick lunged at him, which made Blurry laugh, not even trying to stop him. "Aw, poor little Patrick, thought he knew everything but didn't remember what he was told about mean ole Blurry's powers. Too bad--and the best part is you said it yourself, I didn't make you do a thing."

 

"You _asshole_ , how long were you planning that, huh? You fucking--"

 

"Be quiet," Blurry said dangerously, and Patrick's mouth clicked shut. Blurry dragged him closer and stroked Patrick's hair while he struggled. "Shh shh, be good and don't fight."

 

Patrick went still, and glared up at Blurry. "Now then, let's just calm down and think about things, shall we? You did this to yourself after all--you thought I was harmless--not harmless, exactly, but you believed I could be trusted because I was being nice to you, and you got casual and forgot yourself. I win, you lose, the end."

 

He was still glaring, even as Blurry continued talking, and Blurry laughed again, still stroking his hair. “I don’t know _why_  you’re upset--I’m only living up to your expectations. You’re the one who said I was evil, and I’m being exactly that--you can speak now, I’m curious about what you’re absolutely aching to say.”

 

Patrick massaged his jaw, and finally spoke. “I fucking hate you, you piece of shit. You fucking--how long have you been planning that, huh?”

 

“Since we first met, really. I’ve been testing you, and believe me--I _do_  think you’re fascinating, and I do want to keep you. And this way, when I do keep you--which I will, one way or another--Tyler will be upset with you, and neither of you will want to speak--not that you’ll be able to. I get you both, and you both are isolated. Won’t that be fun?”

 

Patrick spluttered. “No? What the fuck is your problem dude--you’re so fucked _up_ , why would you even do this--”

 

“Because it’s _fun_. Getting you to get your guard down--you were fighting against me, which showed that you didn’t think I would try to harm you. And then, best of all--you gave me your _blood_.”

 

Patrick went pale, and swallowed hard. “What the--what does that mean?”

 

Blurry hummed a bit, and started petting down Patrick’s back, which he couldn’t fight against. “It means that I have a little part of you--just a little--and since you consented to it, I can use that. Think of it as you being my own personal blood bank.”

 

Patrick, although he couldn’t move his body, could still move his head, and without even thinking about it he jerked his head down and bit Blurry’s upper arm, hard. “Fuck yourself,” he said through a mouthful of fabric, and Blurry went still for one long moment.

 

“Well,” he said eventually, “that’s not very nice of you.” He dug his nails into Patrick’s back, and yanked him off, tossing him back towards the wall and making him hit it with a thump.

 

Before Patrick could even do anything, Blurry was on him, pinning his wrists to the wall and straddling his lap, baring his fangs at him. “That wasn’t very nice at _all_. You’re going to apologize, or you won’t like the consequences.”

 

 


	134. Chapter 134

Patrick gulped, and tried to move out of his hold, but of course he was stuck, even as Blurry got closer and closer.

 

“Fine! Fine, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I bit you, I’m sorry I was rude--just get off of me, and I’ll be quiet the rest of the time I’m here, just--stop, please.” He yelped out, his eyes tightly shut.

 

Blurry laughed, and leaned in to breathe right against Patrick’s neck, making him shudder. “I don’t know...your fear smells so good, you know.”

 

Patrick whined, and found that he could move again. “Stop stop stop, I don’t care if it smells good, just stoppit--don’t bite me, let me go,” he said, trying to cover as much as his neck as possible as Blurry mouthed along it thoughtfully, like he was picking the perfect spot to sink his teeth in.

 

Patrick went still, like he was trying really hard not to breathe, just to get Blurry to stop, and he did after a few, agonizing moments. He pressed a kiss to his neck, right over his carotid artery before pulling back and kissing his cheek and pulling away, moving out of his lap.

 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He asked, looking at Patrick quizzically. Patrick just shuddered again and covered his neck protectively with his hands, eyeing him warily.

 

“Don’t do that,” he said shakily. “Just--don’t. I apologized, and I’ll stop talking back, or whatever pissed you off, just--don’t, please.”

 

Blurry eyed him speculatively, and Patrick pulled his knees up to his chest. “Fine--but keep in mind that our agreement is still in action. I won’t drain the driver, or you.”

 

“Oh, great,” he said weakly. “That’s really nice, thanks.”

 

Blurry beamed, seemingly reverting back to his earlier personality. “Excellent,” he said happily. “Now let’s get you something to eat--you’re probably hungry, aren’t you?”

 

Patrick shook his head quickly. “No, no, I don’t think so. I’m good--just woke up, and all.”

 

“Are you sure? Because  either way, they have to come back here today, regardless of whether they’re carrying food for you or not. And I will be biting them, just as a heads up. Speaking of, we should discuss the rules for that, yes?”

 

Patrick blinked, and then nodded. “Um, okay? What are your rules. You know mine, I guess--no draining or eating, and they get out of here alive and with a pulse, and generally safe.”

 

Blurry rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. But, you’re going to have to let me control you if you want to see that they’re safe, and you’ll be quiet while they’re here-- _and_ , if I ask, you’re going to help me with them.”

 

Patrick stared at him blankly. “Help? I don’t really know what that entails…”

 

Blurry rolled his eyes. “It means that if they try to move away, you’re going to stop them, and if I need you’re going to comfort them, and hold them while I’m doing it.”

 

Patrick’s eyes grew wider, and he shook his head. “No, no--I don’t want to do that, and I never agreed to that.”

 

Blurry studied his nails casually. “That’s fine--keep in mind though, if you refuse, you’ll still have to do it. I’ll make you do it. It’s better to say yes now, rather than having no choice later.”

 

Patrick took a deep breath and bit his lip. He knew Blurry's game now, so he wasn't about to try and change his mind this time. Instead he just nodded, and tried not to get angry.

 

“Okay--fine. I’m not going to fight against you on this, or whatever. I just--I would much rather comfort them, rather than, like. Having to hold them down,” he said carefully.

 

Blurry looked at him blankly, and Patrick shrunk back just a bit. “That doesn’t mean I won’t do it though,” he said quickly. “I just thought I would tell you. Um, sorry.”

 

Blurry frowned a little. “C’mon, don’t be boring,” he complained. “Stop apologizing, can’t we go back to what we had before? I miss it already.”

 

Patrick stared at him for one, long moment. “You just told me not to talk back though? So make up your mind, dude.”

 

Blurry grinned at him. “That’s exactly what I was talking about! I missed it. You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

 

Patrick scowled at him. “I’m not adorable, fuck off. And stop mocking me, it’s not funny to anyone.”

 

“It’s funny to me though. And you really are adorable though. You’ll be a fantastic vampire--get people with your cherubic face and then you can sink your fangs in.” He sighed, like he was picturing it. “I can’t wait to teach you everything you need to know about being a vampire.”

 

Patrick gaped at him, before he shook out of it, and turned away. “Stop it, dude. That’s not going to happen, like, ever. I’m leaving soon anyways. You said new moon.”

 

Blurry tilted his head and studied Patrick’s profile. “Yes, I did. That’s when I’m getting Tyler back. But I will be getting you back, rest assured.”

 

And then Blurry smiled, moving closer to Patrick, and touching his shoulder, nearly making him jump. “What?” He said quickly, trying to move away again.

 

“Oh, nothing--I just thought you’d like to hear from Tyler--”

 

Patrick shook his head, and Blurry cooed, pinching his injured cheek, hard. It made Patrick gasp out a "fuck," and still. Blurry didn't stop though, not until he saw tears pricking the corners of Patrick's eyes, and then he released Patrick and pulled him close again, stroking his hair as if to make up for the pain.

 

It didn't, obviously, but Patrick stayed still regardless, paranoid that Blurry would try something else. Instead he just leaned down to murmur in his ear, making Patrick shudder.

 

"He was so _surprised_  that I willingly opened the link that he didn't say anything--at least until you answered me. He was _so_  upset afterwards, because he thought you were friends, and there you are, saying you don't care if I get him." Blurry smirked. "It probably doesn't help that he's distancing himself from all his other friends--not that he'll need them. He'll have me soon enough, and together we'll be one big, happy family."

 

Patrick swallowed hard. "I hope that's the 'royal we' you're using, because I'm not part of your family. Come to think of it, neither is Tyler."

  
Blurry just looked at him silently, until he ducked a head and muttered an apology. "You should know better than that," Blurry chided him. "The bond between a sire and childe is an unbreakable one--you'll know that soon enough, don't worry."


	135. Chapter 135

Patrick laughed nervously and tried to squirm out of Blurry's arms. "Right, well--I'm hungry now, so you should maybe call that person, or whatever, so we can get this over with."

 

"Aw, I never knew you'd be so excited to see me bite someone else--it'll be a bonding experience, I'm sure. Now move a bit so I can reach my phone and call them."

 

Patrick moved out of his lap eagerly, as far away as he could get while still being on the bed. Blurry made a face at him and grabbed his phone, sending off a quick text. “There we go, they’ll be here soon. Let’s go wait by the door, shall we?”

 

“Wait, wait no, that’s gonna take like twenty minutes or something, let’s not--”

 

“Quiet,” Blurry said, and Patrick shut his mouth, glaring at him, although his face went blank soon enough, and Blurry grabbed Patrick’s hand and dragged him to the door, and Patrick seemingly went willingly.

 

They followed the same trail back through the hallway, and Blurry was _smiling_ , which made all the others steer clear, only glancing at them quickly before pretending they hadn’t. Of course, that was when Shane came out of his office, and stared at them.

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “What the fuck are you doing now?”

 

Blurry stood up straight, and narrowed his eyes, staring down at Shane. “We,” he said, motioning to Patrick, “are going to the front door to wait for our meals to arrive. And then we’ll go back to my room. Is that a _problem_?”

 

“Meals? Since when do you eat human food?”

 

“Meals as in he gets the food, and I get the person who was nice enough to bring us food--I asked them to come back, and they’ve obliged. So if you’ll excuse us…”

 

He sounded vaguely threatening, and Shane took a step back, frowning. “Fine, fine. But I’m not dealing with the body you leave behind.”

 

Blurry rolled his eyes. “I’m letting them go afterwards,” he said slowly, talking down to Shane. “I don’t want Patrick getting upset when he wakes up, after all.”

 

He batted his eyes at Shane, who just sighed and went back into his office, and so Blurry and Patrick can both continue towards the door, where Patrick settled down at his feet again, letting Blurry lean against the wall and stroke his hair.

 

(Patrick, somewhere in the back of his mind, was _pissed_. He hated being treated like a pet, or whatever the fuck Blurry was doing. Not that he could say anything.)

 

When the doorbell rang, Blurry didn’t even bother to let Patrick stand, he just answered the door to the confused person, who was carrying their pizzas.

 

“Oh good, you’re here,” Blurry said, taking the pizzas from them and finally letting Patrick stand to grab them from Blurry. “Now why don’t you come in?”

 

They blinked, and without their consent they began moving forward. “I--what? I don’t even know why I’m here--I’m not even scheduled for today.”

 

“That doesn’t matter, does it? You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Now come in, I want to show you around.”

 

They did as asked, and Blurry grabbed their arm and Patrick’s, leading them back. A few vampires peeked out of their rooms to look at them, and some looked envious, licking their lips as if they were thinking about biting in and drinking.

 

While Patrick didn’t seem to notice, they sure did, swallowing hard and ducking their head to avoid their eyes, tugging their arm weakly out of Blurry’s hold. “Sir, really, I don’t think this is--”

 

“Quiet down, will you? You’re here, and you’ll be getting a big tip for this, now be good and follow me.”

 

Their eyes were still wide with terror, but they did as they were told, right up until Blurry pushed both of them into his room and locked the door. Patrick mechanically put the pizza down before he sat on the bed and blinked out of it, groaning a bit, and they backed up towards the bed as well, to get away from Blurry.

 

“So--Devin, was it? You’re going to sit down on the bed near Patrick, and stay calm, okay?” 

 

Devin nodded wordlessly and moved back towards the bed, and Patrick scrambled out of their way, letting them take a seat on the edge of the bed.

 

“Very good--now Patrick, get behind them, will you? Hold their hands for me, and let them lean against you,” Blurry said, coming closer.

 

Patrick looked sick, but he did as he was told, swallowing hard as he settled down behind them so they were sitting in between his thighs, and he took hold of their wrists carefully, pinning them to the bed.

 

Devin didn’t move, even as Blurry prowled closer, leaning over Devin to tilt their head and expose their neck. Before he leaned in and bit down, though, he locked eyes with Patrick, and smiled. “You’ll be in this position soon enough,” he said, breathing in deeply. “Don’t worry though, I’ll get Tyler to hold you down instead--it’ll be much nicer than this, really.”

 

When Patrick flinched, Blurry laughed at him quietly, before he leaned in and dragged his fangs against Devin’s neck, making them shiver. When he found the perfect spot he looked up at Patrick again and sank his teeth into their neck, making them jerk.

 

Patrick closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch, and he was a little thankful that Devin wasn’t fighting back--it meant he could think about other things, and pretend it wasn’t happening.

 

The only _problem_  with that though, was that closing his eyes made it blatantly more obvious what Blurry was doing, and Patrick was sick with the knowledge that apparently biting in was _much_  messier, and louder, than just making a small cut. 

 

It made Patrick flinch, especially when Blurry pulled away, looking at him. “Hey, look at me,” Blurry said loudly. “You need to _watch_  this take place, or else we aren’t bonding like I wanted.”

 

When Patrick opened his eyes Blurry smiled and licked his lips, and holy fuck his mouth was covered in blood, and his _teeth_ \--Patrick shuddered, and loosened his hold on Devin, which made them sag against him, head lolling back onto his shoulder. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight, and his place in the whole situation.

 

Blurry rolled his eyes and moved closer to drink again, and as soon as his eyes were off Patrick, Patrick shut his eyes again, trying to tune all of it out--Blurry’s hungry little noises, and Devin’s hitches in breath against his skin--it was all so _awful_ , and he genuinely regretted agreeing to this.

 

As soon as he felt Devin’s breath begin to slow, though, his eyes popped open again, and he stared at Blurry for a moment, before he spoke. “Blurry-- _Blurry_. Stop it, c’mon. You’re taking too much from them. Just stop, okay?”

 

For one, uncomfortable moment Patrick thought that Blurry wasn’t going to listen to him, and he was terrified that soon he’d just be blanketed with their lifeless body, but Blurry pulled away after licking the blood from the mark and healing it, so they were left with a shiny new scar.

 

Patrick breathed a sigh of relief, and took his hands away from Devin’s wrists, before squirming out from under them.

 

“That was very good--you did a nice job following orders, Patrick, we’ll definitely have to do this again sometime. But for now, why don’t you both take a rest, hm? I need to go do a few things.”

 

Patrick stared at him mutely as Blurry walked to the door, and left, locking it behind him with an ominous click. It was then that Patrick looked down at Devin, who was laying back against the bed, eyes closed as they breathed.

 

At least they were breathing, Patrick thought glumly. He eyed the pizza, and still felt sick, so he sighed and tugged Devin further up the bed, so they weren’t hanging off of it, and sat against the headboard, watching the door warily.

 

Honestly, fuck Blurry. He was an asshole and Patrick was scared and a bit horrified just thinking about what Blurry was doing. It didn’t matter if he was like, talking with Shane, or even left the house. No matter what he was doing, it was suspicious and meant bad things for everyone.

 

\----

 

Blurry was, in fact, doing something that meant bad things for everyone. Well, everyone except himself. He was making plans, really. He _could_  have done that in the room, but this way Patrick was left alone with Devin, and with his own thoughts.

 

It was amusing to think of him stewing in his thoughts--both about what he witnessed, and what Blurry told him. Honestly, his _face_  when he was told he would be in the same situation soon enough. Granted, he didn’t seem to believe, which was his choice, Blurry supposed. He’d learn soon enough--he wouldn’t be in that exact position, because Blurry wasn’t just going to sink his teeth into Patrick’s pretty neck.

 

What did Patrick expect though? He _did_  say that the femoral artery had the best supply of blood. That was a warning enough, honestly.

 

That thought finished, he continued on his way, out to Devin’s car. Patrick did say that he wanted them to get away safely, but if their car was dead, well. They couldn’t really let Devin wander away as injured as they were.

 

It was fairly dark outside, which didn’t bother him much, truthfully, so he just went to where their car was parked--how thoughtful, they had parked out of the way of the drive--and he very carefully broke the door handle off. With that done he threw the handle off in a random direction, and pulled out his knife to pop two of their tires.

 

That finished, he stood back to observe his work, before he nodded, pleased, and headed back indoors. He needed to stop by Shane’s office and discuss the plan, and he wanted to give Patrick more time to stew in his thoughts--and for Devin to rest, because he was going to have a special treat for both of them when he got back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays! As a gift, here's another chapter!


	136. Chapter 136

Patrick was worried. Devin was actually properly asleep, it seemed, which was great for them, but not so great for Patrick. He had no one to talk to, and fuck, what if they woke up? They’d maybe think Patrick did it and they were taller than him (to be honest, who wasn’t) and it would just be bad in general, regardless of whether Blurry came back in time or not.

 

So Patrick stayed clear of their side of the bed, and kept his eyes firmly locked on the door. He didn’t want Blurry coming in and surprising him. When Blurry didn’t come back after thirty minutes though, Patrick was _bored_. He didn’t want Blurry to come back, or anything like that, but it didn’t change the fact that there was nothing to do except watch Devin sleep, or fall asleep himself.

 

Or eat, actually--he _was_  hungry, and the food was right there, so…He moved off the bed carefully and grabbed the pizza, bringing it back over, and when he grabbed a slice to eat, Devin finally stirred. Patrick stilled and watched as they groaned, waking up properly, and he took a deep breath  before nudging them.

 

“Hey,” he whispered, making them jump. Their eyes were open and staring at him, wide eyed, so he went on in a normal tone. “So, we’re both stuck here until he comes back, and you’re probably hungry, so, you want a slice?”

 

They sat up carefully, and nodded, rubbing their head. “Um, yes please.” They grabbed a slice, and hesitated. “So, uh. Where exactly are we?”

 

Patrick swallowed his bite and shrugged. “I don’t even know. I mean, I don’t even know what day it is, for fuck’s sake.”

 

“It’s Tuesday,” Devin said, watching him. “How long have you been here?”

 

“Since Sunday night. Fuck, this sucks. I wanna get out of here--do you know when the new moon is, by the way?”

 

Devin shook their head. “No, but I could check? I have my cell phone on me, if it wasn’t taken away.” 

 

Patrick’s face lit up, and he made grabby hands as they took it out of their pocket. "Oh man, before you do that can I try to call someone please? We might be able to get out of here no more injured than we are already."

 

Devin blinked at him, uncomprehending, and Patrick motioned at their neck with a wince. "Sorry, but your neck kind of got, well--you know."

 

Their hand flew up to their neck and touched the bite mark with a look of horror. "Oh my--seriously?" They took a deep breath and tossed Patrick their phone. "Go ahead, I'm just gonna take a moment to soak in the badness of this situation."

 

Patrick took the phone with only a little fumbling, and carefully racked his brain for Joe’s number. He dialed it from memory and held his breath, hearing it ring. He was desperately hoping that he’d pick up, or something, and after a few more rings, he did.

 

“Hello? Who is this?” It was Joe’s voice, and Patrick breathed out a sigh of relief, speaking quickly.

 

“Hey, Joe, it’s me--Patrick. So, uh, I don’t really know where I am, but I’m fine, for now.”

 

He could hear Joe pull the phone away from his ear and yell for Pete, before he spoke. “Patrick, oh fuck--whose phone is this? You aren’t hurt, are you?”

 

“I’m, well--I’m not _really_  that injured, or anything. And there’s this person--they deliver pizzas, and uh, Blurry sort of like, mind controlled them or whatever, so now they’re kind of stuck with me.”

 

“Oh, well, that’s just great--are they okay? You didn’t like--”

 

Patrick interrupted before he could finish the thought. “They’re still alive and well--as well as someone can be when they’ve been bitten, at least. Um, so, how is everyone doing?”

 

“Worried. Pete hasn’t slept in a while, and he uh. He found the culprit who let those guys in, and, well. We won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

 

Patrick took a deep breath. “Okay, okay, that’s good. Um, can you do me a favor? Tell Tyler I’m sorry, please. Just--please do that for me.”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Joe said slowly. “Here’s Pete, so--” There was a yelp, and then the distinct sounds of someone snatching the phone away.

 

“Hey,” Pete said breathlessly, and Patrick loosened up a little, clutching the phone tighter.

 

“Hey,” he said back. “I’m fine, before you ask. No like, bite marks, or anything like that. And I’m borrowing someone’s phone--their name’s Devin, and uh, if you’re gonna rescue me so you can keep Tyler safe, you should probably rescue them too, cause they’re human.”

 

Pete muttered a curse. “Are they okay though? If you’re together--”

 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re both fine,” Patrick said quickly. “Um. We’re in Blurry’s room, locked in. It’s well--it’s cleaner than it was before I got here.”

 

“He hasn’t controlled you, has he? And, like--where is he?”

 

“Um--I don’t really _know_. He just, like--left. Said he had things to do. And, uh.” Patrick winced, “he kind of _has_ , actually. It’s not like I can stop him from doing it or anything. He’s such an asshole.”

 

“Fuck, okay. But you’re okay other than that right? We’re gonna get you soon, I promise--”

 

“Yeah, I figured.” He quieted down. “So, um--I really am sorry for getting like, abducted or whatever, and I want you to know that I love you.”

 

Pete laughed, slightly hysterical. “I love you too, ‘trick. But don’t talk like you’re gonna die, okay? We’re gonna get you and, uh, the other person--out of there, and we’re gonna keep Tyler safe too, I promise.”

 

Patrick nodded, and, realizing Pete couldn’t see, “yeah, okay. I should probably hang up now though, but like--figure out how to do this without anyone dying, please, and if you do that, I’ll totally kiss you when we see each other next.”

 

Devin looked up at him and quirked their eyebrow, which made him flush a bit, but he just listened intently to Pete.

 

“I am looking forward to that, and I love you, and I’ll see you soon. Stay safe, and don’t piss anyone off, please.”

  
Patrick promised he wouldn’t, and hung up the phone, handing it back to Devin.


	137. Chapter 137

“So,” they said slowly. “I’m guessing whoever that was is the reason you’re stuck here?”

 

“Yep, pretty much. I’m a political prisoner, or whatever. It’s a long story.”

 

“Gotcha. So, uh. What exactly is going to happen to us? Or rather, when are we getting out of here?”

 

“Well, you’re technically supposed to get out of here when he gets back, but knowing him he’s fucked up your car, so we’re probably stuck here until they drag us out and take us to the like, spot where they’re switching us around.”

 

“Okay, so who is switching? I’m sorry for asking questions, but, well there’s not much else we can do, right?”

 

Patrick took another bite of his pizza, and shrugged. “Blurry has like--not a twin, I guess, but Tyler looks almost exactly like him, and so he grabbed him and kidnapped him. And then he escaped, so, Blurry wants him back. Which is why I’m here. He’s trading me for Tyler, except he wants to keep me? I dunno, it’s a clusterfuck, pretty much.”

 

“Oh, that makes sense, I guess. But why am I here, exactly? Like, I remember coming here yesterday and him saying that I should come back, but after that it’s pretty much a blank.”

 

Patrick scowled. “Blurry’s an asshole, who has mind control powers, like I said before, and so he sort of ordered you to come back, so he could bite you. Sorry, I told him not to, but he’s an asshole who doesn’t listen--he says you taste like cinnamon sugar.”

 

They nodded thoughtfully. “Uh, that’s interesting? And I guess I can understand the fascination then--if I knew someone who tasted like cinnamon toast crunch I’d want to eat them too,” they deadpanned.

 

Patrick stared at them silently, and they ducked their head. “Joke, sorry. I’m not that good at them.”

 

Patrick coughed awkwardly, and looked away out of pity for Devin, who was blushing just a bit. “So, uh,” he said loudly, to break the silence. “How old are you again? Cause we don’t really know much about each other--”

 

Devin looked thankful for the change of topic. “I’m nineteen, and this was a new job, dammit. They didn’t tell me that I’d have to deliver to vampires--if I had known, well, I definitely wouldn’t have accepted the job.”

 

“That makes a lot of sense.” Patrick winced. “Sorry for getting you into this mess, and all. I tried not to say I didn’t want any food--”

 

Devin just shrugged. “Whatever, better me than someone else, right? Well, maybe not for you, but for the person--you know what I mean?”

 

Patrick nodded slowly. “Yeah, I get what you mean. Thanks for letting me use your phone by the way--it really helped.”

 

“Not a problem. I should probably call my brother, actually, let him know that I’ve being held hostage so I won’t be home for breakfast.”

 

“I--how are you so chill about this? Aren’t you worried about the whole, you know, blood sucking thing?”

 

Devin shrugged, and grabbed a slice of pizza. “I got it all out of my system while you were on the phone. I don’t wanna like, freak out and end up dead, like in a horror movie.”

 

As they took a bite, Patrick considered that, and shrugged. “That actually makes a lot of sense. So good on you, I guess? Thanks for being so calm about the fact that you were mind controlled and had your blood drained by a creep.”

 

“Thank you for explaining things and making sure what’s his face didn’t kill me, and when he comes in he owes me twenty bucks.”

 

Patrick snorted. “You really think he’s gonna--”

 

“Nah, but if I piss him off, he’d focus on me, right? Which is good for you, because I don’t know how to tell you this, but your face is kind of bruised like, a lot.”

 

“At least he hasn’t bitten me though.”

 

Devin’s eyes pointedly flicked down to Patrick’s exposed wrist, and he flushed, covering it. “That uh, doesn’t count. I said bitten, not drank from.”

 

Devin snorted, but didn’t say anything, slipping their phone back into their pocket before they took  another bite. It was silent as they ate, at least until the doorknob jiggled, and they both stilled as Blurry entered, with a barely convincing look of worry on his face.

 

“Oh, you’ll never _guess_  what happened, Devin--” he said, and Devin looked at him warily, subconsciously shrugging their shoulder to cover their neck. “I went out to check on your car, and it looks like some sort of animal _wrecked_ it--it doesn’t look like you’re getting out of here tonight.”

 

Patrick and Devin exchanged glances. “Oh,” they said slowly. “Right. So, uh, am I staying in here, or are you gonna let me walk home? Because I can probably get to the road and call a ride or something--”

 

“Oh no, no, don’t be silly. You and Patrick have bonded, right? I wouldn’t think to let you out all by yourself on a night like this--I promised him you’d be safe after all, and I can’t really keep you safe if you’re all by yourself, can I?”

 

“I didn’t say that, I said I didn’t want you biting them at all, _and_  I told you not to tell them to come back,” Patrick protested, but he fell silent when Blurry looked at him.

 

Devin, sensing awkwardness, coughed. “Right, okay. So I’m staying here for however long. Can I call someone to let them know?”

 

Blurry narrowed his eyes, “no,” he said slowly, “you can’t. Do you have a phone on you?”

 

“Um. No?”

 

“Hand me your phone, _now_ ,” he said, and Devin stumbled to their feet and handed Blurry their phone. He took it, and, staring at Devin, deftly snapped it in half.

 

“Hey, what the hell,” they protested. “You totally owe me a new phone, along with that twenty bucks I had to pay for your food, and gas to get out here. I’m not made of money you know.”

 

Blurry looked at them silently, and, quick as a flash, grabbed their wrist and tightened his hold, making them gasp as Blurry brought them to their knees by levering their arm up and shoving down.

 

“Fuck,” they yelped out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re going to break my wrist--”

 

Blurry only tightened his hold. “Maybe you shouldn’t have talked back, and then I wouldn’t be doing this.”

 

Patrick jumped to his feet, nervous. “Just stop it, c’mon--you said you wouldn’t hurt them!”

 

Blurry’s eyes looked cold. “Be that as it may, they shouldn’t have talked back like that, it deserves a punishment.”

 

Devin was clutching at Blurry’s wrist, trying to pry his hand off of their wrist, which he took no notice of. Patrick swallowed hard. “Don’t,” he said quietly. “Just--why not bite them instead? Much more fun, right? And then you get fed and they learn their lesson.”

 

Blurry kept staring at him, considering. “H,, that sounds fun enough, but that doesn’t sound like much of a punishment for you.”

 

Patrick looked frantic. “What do you want me to do? Just don’t break their wrist, or anything like that, and I’ll do whatever, I swear.”

  
Finally, Blurry let go of Devin’s wrist, which they pulled close quickly to rub, hissing. “Get up, now,” Blurry said, and Devin stood on shaky legs, eyeing him suspiciously. “Now get on the bed--both of you.”


	138. Chapter 138

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look. I know some of you are getting tired of this portion of the story, and I'm sorry, okay? I'm genuinely very sorry that this portion of the story bores you, or you want to get back to the "plot" as it was before. But this has already been written, and I can't rewrite ten thousand words of prose when I'm still writing what I have. Rest assured that the plot will be coming back though.

Patrick and Devin glanced at each other, before they did as they were told. At least it made Blurry crack a bit of a smile, which calmed them down at least a few notches. Blurry climbed on the bed with them, and dragged Devin closer, glancing at Patrick. “Hold their hands for me again, will you? And you’re after this, don’t even think you’re getting out of this.”

 

Devin looked panicked, and squirmed in his lap, laughing nervously. "You know what, I really think I'd rather you broke my wrist, actually. Let's do that instead."

 

Blurry bared his teeth at them. "Or, I could break your neck after draining you dry and leaving your body right here on the bed. Your choice."

 

Devin swallowed hard, and wordlessly let Patrick grab their wrists and pin them behind their back. Blurry grinned, one hand with a tight hold on Devin's hip and the other moved to brush their hair out of their face before he tilted their head to expose their neck. "Good choice," he murmured, and Devin shuddered.

 

Patrick shut his eyes tightly as he felt Devin stiffen in his hold as Blurry bit down. 

 

_Oh yeah_ , he thought dizzily, _this is the first time they've been aware of getting bitten_. He nearly giggled nervously, biting his lip to hold them back.

 

Devin was squirming, like they were trying to get away, and Blurry tightened his hold on them, digging his nails into their hip through their jeans. They jerked in Patrick’s hold, and he felt awful when he had to tighten his hold so they wouldn’t try to get away.

 

Blurry pulled back, just enough to lick a stripe up Devin’s neck, and they shuddered. “Are you done yet,” they asked in a tight voice, head tipped back and eyes shut tightly.

 

It made Blurry hum thoughtfully. “I don’t know--Patrick, are you ready for your turn yet? Or should I continue like this?”

 

Patrick swallowed hard and loosened his hold on Devin's hands. They looked pale, under their tan, and it didn't look like they could handle any more, to be honest.

 

"Okay," he said quietly. When Blurry continued staring at him, he got louder. "I said okay--I'll let you bite me, or whatever. Let's get this over with."

 

Blurry licked his lips and grinned, and let go of Devin, who quickly moved out of his lap and up the bed, away from him. As they did, Patrick got closer, awkwardly climbing into Blurry's lap slowly.

 

Blurry looked amused, and settled his hands on Patrick's hips. "Cheer up," he said. "It's not like you're going to _die_."

 

"Feels like it," Patrick muttered, but he steeled himself and tilted his head back to expose his throat.

 

Blurry hummed but didn't move. "No, no, not until Devin is a dear and holds your wrists--I don't want you to lash out and hit you."

 

Devin started and stared up at them both, still clutching their neck, but they crawled forward reluctantly, gripping Patrick's wrists loosely. "Okay," they said, "go ahead, I guess."

 

Blurry didn't move though, just stared at them both. "I'm not doing anything until you act like you want me to do this."

 

Patrick gaped at him. "Are you serious? Why would I do that?"

 

Blurry gave him a patient smile, like Patrick was a child who wasn't following instructions. "Because," he said slowly, "if you don't, I'll make you, or I'll go back to Devin, until they pass out from blood loss."

 

Patrick plastered an obviously fake smile on his face, saying through gritted teeth, "Blurryface, please bite me, I would love it if you did that already."

 

Blurry frowned at him, and tightened his grip on Patrick's hips. "Do it right, or I'll make you _beg_."

 

Patrick yelped, squirming. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry--please bite me, I want it, please."

 

Blurry loosened his hold, as did Devin. "Much better," he said approvingly.

 

His voice got sharper. "Devin, hold him tighter, _now_."

 

The hold on his wrists tightened, and Blurry leaned in, breathing onto his neck as Patrick tried to be as still as possible as Blurry opened his mouth and sank his teeth in.

 

It was worse than he expected--at least the knife went away when it's job was done, but teeth just stayed, biting in deeper to make it bleed more.

 

And fuck, the noises were so much _worse_  up close--very sloppy, and he never wanted to hear Blurry moan that close to his ear, like, ever. He was tense, and Blurry’s hands on his hips didn’t help, squeezing in time with his sucks, so even if his eyes were closed he could still feel it all.

 

At least Devin’s hold on his wrists had loosened up considerably. He could feel their head resting against his back, as if they couldn’t sit up straight, probably from the blood loss. Fuck, this was so _bad_ , even when Blurry finally pulled away, looking far happier than Patrick had ever seen him.

 

“You two,” he said approvingly, “are going to make me fat, with how good you taste--not that I’m complaining.”

 

Patrick jerked in his hold, and Devin made a noise behind him. “That doesn’t make it sound like you’re letting us go,” Devin said carefully. They let go of Patrick’s wrists, and straightened up to look at Blurry, and Patrick felt them flinch behind him, likely from the look on Blurry’s face.

 

“Just because I have to give him back, at least for a bit, doesn’t mean I have to give _you_  back,” Blurry said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I am really not okay with that. I have a family, and stuff,” Devin said, louder than  before, and Patrick squirmed, trying to slap a hand over their mouth.

 

“Shut up,” Patrick hissed quietly, “seriously, you don’t wanna do this.”

 

Devin bit their lip, and went quiet. Blurry finally let go of Patrick’s hips, and grabbed Devin’s hair, yanking on it. “Well then, we could fix that, if you like? All you have to do is tell me where you live--well, used to live, I suppose, and I’ll make sure you don’t have anyone to go back to after this--same as I’m going to do with him. What do you say?”

 

"Did I say have a family? I meant I'm an orphan and live alone in a shitty part of town. And I'll be good, I swear," they said, leaning into Blurry's hand, if only because if they pulled back it would hurt even more.

 

He studied their face, and shrugged. "I don't believe you, but I suppose I am going soft in my old age, so I'll let that lie slide, for now."

 

He let go of their hair and let Patrick move out of his lap. "Be glad that I am keeping you--this way you don't have to worry about a job, or in his case, getting married. We'll be one big happy family--three vampires and a food supply. I'm thinking we'll go back to Ohio, after I finish my business here."

 

"You haven't really explained what your business here is though--at least, not in detail. So, uh, what exactly does that entail?" Patrick asked. 

 

Blurry shrugged lazily. "Exactly what you think it does. I'm here for Tyler, but once I get him I help these people do what they want, and I leave. It's really that simple."

 

"Okay, but like--what do they want to do? And how did you team up with them anyways."

 

"They want to kill your fiancé--and probably everyone else allied with him. I wasn't paying much attention, to be fair--Morris is dull and unimaginative. And I'm allied with them because I like destruction, and they knew what I was looking for and offered to help me find it.

 

"They needed my help anyways--none of them are over fifty." He scoffed. "God knows how they've survived this long with all of them being so young and unintelligent--I mean, Tyler and his little friends are younger than them, but he's _cunning_ \--he had to be to get away from me."

 

"Then why don't you just, y'know, let him go? If he was smart enough to get away--"

 

"Don't be stupid," Blurry said reproachfully. "Just because he was smart about it doesn't mean that he isn't still mine, and doesn't deserve to be punished for it. That's where you come in, obviously."

 

Patrick wrinkled his nose, looking thoughtful. "Okay, but, you should know that Tyler doesn't drink blood. Like, he's vegan."

 

Blurry scoffed. "No one's vegan when they're starving, trust me. If he can't eat anything else, he'll go back to blood--and that's where they come in--portable food, as I said."

 

Devin was suddenly very alert. “Um, wouldn’t siccing a starving vampire on me, you know, kill me?”

 

Blurry shrugged. “Probably. But he does have some control, I’m sure he’d pull away before he killed you.” He paused, thoughtful. “That doesn’t mean you’ll last longer, though. Newborn vampires are always _starving_ , and usually do kill their first human. It’s a pity, really, because you do taste quite good.”

  
“Newborn vampires? Who are you biting then--oh.” They turned and looked at Patrick, who suddenly felt very sick.


	139. Chapter 139

“Blurry, I don’t want to be a vampire, or to bite people. But if I _was_  going to be a vampire, I would want to not drink from humans, thank you. Aren’t deer good or something? Wouldn’t that work just as well?”

 

Blurry wrinkled his nose, looking disgusted. “No, they don’t. They taste disgusting, and they’re really stringy. Don’t even bother trying. Animals are _disgusting_  compared to humans.” His voice turned more silky. “Besides, aren’t you interested? Imagine tasting things three times more vividly, and it’s just like human food. Really, you can’t tell me you don’t want to know what it’s like to drain a human, and see the life drain from their eyes.”

 

Patrick reared back, and shook his head. “No, no, I’m really good. I don’t wanna kill anyone, or hurt them, thanks though.”

 

Blurry sighed, exasperated, and shook his head. “You’ll learn, soon enough. Because while you are very loyal, which I like, you’re _very_  naive. No matter what, someone’s going to turn you, and you are going to taste human blood--at least this way, you may be able to save them from dying, if you’re good enough.”

 

Devin and Patrick glanced at each other, and they looked resigned, sitting with their knees up to their chest as they flashed him a weak smile.

 

“Whatever,” Devin finally said. “If I’m gonna die, at least it’ll be on accident, rather than someone like, actually planning on murdering me, I guess. So thanks for that?”

 

Blurry frowned a little, like he was about to start pouting again. “You know, if you keep acting like that, I’m going to make sure you die when _I_  want you to, not because they’re too incompetent to keep you alive.”

 

Patrick was freaked out for a moment, before he realized what Devin was maybe trying to do. It became more obvious when they shrugged again.

 

“I don’t care, if I die, I die. But seriously, I’d much rather it be to Patrick or what’s his face--Tyler. They sound much nicer, and hey, if they’re starving, well. I guess my blood is all theirs.”

 

Blurry clenched and unclenched his fists, before moving quickly to drag Devin close by their hair, as Patrick yelped and rolled out of the way. “Let’s get this straight,” he hissed. “Tyler? He’s _mine_ , and so is Patrick. They belong to _me_. And so does your blood--if anyone’s going to kill you, it’s going to be _me_ , even if I have to drag them away and drain the last drops out of your body myself.”

 

Patrick inhaled quickly, and edged away. Blurry sounded venomous, and far more dangerous than he’d ever heard him. It was really fucking terrifying, and Patrick felt really fucking bad for Devin.

 

Even if he was terrified though, he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He crawled closer, until he was next to Blurry, and grabbed his sleeve. “Hey, so,” he said, falsely chipper. “Quick question, about the whole like, changing me thing. So, are you gonna like, just kidnap me back from Pete, or? And when are you coming to pick me up?”

 

Blurry faltered, but didn’t loosen his hold on Devin. “Excuse me?”

 

“I said, when are you coming to get me. Like, yeah, I get that I have to go back to Pete so you can have Tyler back, but like, that doesn’t explain when you’re coming to get _me_.”

 

Blurry frowned a little, and released his hold on Devin. “What exactly are you hoping to achieve by asking this? I know you’re not ecstatic about it, so you asking about it--”

 

Patrick shrugged. “Maybe I’ve grown adjusted to the thought?” He suggested, and Devin was kind of impressed about how good of an actor he was, because he did seem to be fooling Blurry, at least a little.

 

Blurry narrowed his eyes, and turned to face Patrick more fully. “...Right, sure.” He sounded doubtful, but Patrick flashed him a blinding smile, looking far more innocent than he felt.

 

Blurry looked vaguely confused, and the expression only grew when Patrick scooted closer to him. “No, seriously--I kinda need to know, so I can get my stuff, you know? Like, Tyler plays the ukulele, and all, and I have a few instruments, and some other stuff I wanna bring along too. I mean, you can’t expect me to just get kidnapped with nothing but the clothes on my back, right?”

 

Devin bit their lip, and stayed quiet, silently cheering Patrick on. If they spoke up, the whole thing would be ruined, but he was doing fine on his own anyways, or so it seemed.

 

Blurry shook his head. “Fine. When I find out, I suppose I’ll tell you, if only because you asked so nicely. But don’t expect anything else, you understand?”

 

Patrick nodded, and smiled at Blurry. “Great, thank you Blurry. That’s really nice of you.”

 

Blurry scowled, and rolled his eyes. “Nice, sure. Don’t even try that on me. Both of you just sleep it off, now--especially since I’m trading Patrick tomorrow night.”

 

Patrick could feel his eyes beginning to droop closed, and he frowned at Blurry, but couldn’t say anything, especially as he felt himself drifting off, leaning back against the bed as he felt Devin lean against him, and just as his eyes fluttered one last time before he drifted off, he saw Blurry staring at him, an intense look on his face.

  
Apparently, he didn't want them to talk the rest of the time Patrick was stuck there, because any time he felt himself waking up Blurry was right there, forcing him to sleep again. At least it hopefully meant that they weren't getting snacked on or anything like that, but still--sleeping for that long was very disorienting.


	140. Chapter 140

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does contain a brief description of a non-consensual kiss, so if you want to know when that starts and ends, check out the end notes.

Tyler was nervous. He hadn't exactly told Josh, Jenna, or Debby what was going on, just told them that they should still have fun, still be able to hang out with their friends even if he was stuck upstairs. He had hoped that maybe just disappearing would be better--they wouldn't hunt for him, or whatever; maybe they'd think that it was for the best, too. He was doing it for Patrick, after all (Patrick, who had said he didn't feel guilty about throwing him to the sharks--who was fine with leaving him with Blurry forever, even though Tyler thought they were friends, thought he /knew/ was Blurry wanted).

 

So he stayed closed up in his room, and packed some of his things--just some shirts, and other clothes. He'd leave his ukulele for them, if only because Blurry would destroy it if he took it in the first place.

 

He knew they were gone by now--he had insisted that they still interact with others, and so he was waiting for Pete to show up and get him for the drive over. He wasn't expecting the door to open and for clothes to be thrown in his face, though.

 

"Get dressed," Pete said briskly as Tyler moved to remove the clothes from his face. "I know you're dressed now, but seriously, put these clothes on--I want you bright as a beacon when we do the trade."

 

Tyler nodded, and fumbled to undo the bundle of clothes, before Pete turned around to let him get dressed in peace. He still felt a bit embarrassed though, even when he had dressed and shoved his other clothes in his bag.

 

Pete turned around when there was no longer the sound of clothes rustling, and sighed. "We've got a few minutes to get down to the cars without being spotted--you get the roomies out for us?”

 

Tyler fidgeted with the (too large, too _bright_ ) shirt, and nodded. “Yeah. I figured it’d be easier if they didn’t know what was going on.” He took a deep breath. “So, are we going?”

 

Pete looked sympathetic--he didn’t _want_  to be a bad guy, but if it was between Patrick and Tyler, Patrick won every time. “Yeah, we are. I’ll take your bag, c’mon.”

 

Tyler handed it over, and dragged his feet while he was following Pete. They didn’t meet anyone on the way down, thankfully, but that only increased Tyler’s anxiety, until he was nearly vibrating when they finally got down to the garage, and saw who was coming with them.

 

They looked ready for a battle, all of them--Andy, Bill, Travie, and Gabe. Pete nodded at them when he saw them, tossed Gabe Tyler’s bag, who caught it easily, and slung it across his back.

 

“We ready to go then,” Bill asked, straightening up as he shoved something in his pocket. Pete nodded, and Travie got in the front seat, starting up the car and raising an eyebrow at them.

 

“Great, then let’s get this over with. Andy, you have the first aid kit, right?”

 

When Andy nodded, they all climbed in--Pete in the front seat with Travie, Gabe and Bill in the middle seat, and Tyler perched awkwardly in the back with Andy, pulling his knees up to take up less space. Andy flashed him a sympathetic look.

 

“I’m sorry about this,” he said quietly. “You’re a good person for this, and you definitely don’t deserve to be sent back to him like this. No one would.”

 

Tyler shrugged. “Let’s not talk about this, okay?” He said in a pleading voice. “Please, let’s just, not talk. I don’t want this to be any more difficult.”

 

They stayed quiet the rest of the ride. It was very subdued, and Tyler tried to stop himself from bouncing his knee, too anxious for anything else, and it seemed like time was passing way too quickly, because they pulled into the park soon enough, and when they spilled out of the car, Pete handed over his bag, which he clutched to his chest like a stuffed animal.

 

The others looked far less tense than he felt, including Pete, who leaned back against the van to wait as he watched the road, where another van was roaring down the road, screeching to a halt a few feet away from their van.

 

Morris came out of the van first, and his eyes flicked over all of them, before his face slid into a frown. “What, you decided not to bring Ryan with you? What a pity.”

 

Pete didn’t look amused. “He’s busy, you know, with the wedding? Speaking of, I’d appreciate my fiance back now.”

 

Morris waved his hand dismissively. “Right, of course--you can have him back. He was pretty quiet, after he learned his lesson.”

 

Pete snarled at him, lunging forward, and Bill held him back.

 

“Patrick, if you please,” Bill said firmly.

 

Morris rolled his eyes, and motioned the rest of them out of the van--there were a few other men with them, and then Blurry came out, dragging Patrick by the wrist, and he grinned at Tyler, all teeth, just to see him flinch.

 

Patrick looked relieved to see them, even if he did look apologetically at Tyler, who avoided his eyes, hugging his bag tighter.

 

“Right,” Blurry said, finally releasing Patrick’s wrist, and shoving him forward. “You have yours, now I want what’s mine.”

 

Pete nodded at Tyler, who took a hesitant step forward, as Patrick walked towards their group. Before Tyler could move any further though, Patrick grabbed his shirt, leaning up to whisper quickly in his ear.

 

“Hey, so, be safe okay? You’re great, and it’s gonna be okay, I promise. And take care of Devin, will you? You’ll know what I mean soon enough, but take care of yourself too, cause you’re important to everyone in the house.”

 

He pulled Tyler into a hug, who noticed the bite mark on his neck before Patrick released him and before he could mention it Patrick hurried forward to Pete, who looked so relieved to see him--like he could finally see the sun again.

 

So Tyler couldn't really blame Patrick for what he had said before, especially if he had been bitten, and instead he moved closer to Blurry, who grabbed him as soon as he was able, pulling him into a possessive kiss, all teeth and tongue.

 

Tyler was squirming in his arms, obviously uncomfortable, and Pete folded Patrick into a fierce hug, pulling Patrick’s head into his chest so he wouldn’t have to see, while the Bill kept watching, seemingly undeterred by the display.

  
Finally though, Blurry pulled away, licking his lips, and he blew a kiss at Pete, slinging an arm around Tyler’s waist. “You have fun with your fiance, Wentz,” he called out. “He tastes _delicious_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene starts with "so Tyler couldn't really..." And ends with "undeterred by the display"


	141. Chapter 141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day everyone!

Pete snarled, and tightened his hold on Patrick, until Patrick yelped, digging his nails into Pete’s arm. “Pete, lemme go, _now_ , please,” he hissed, sounding a bit panicked. 

 

Pete loosened his hold, but didn’t let go of Patrick, and instead scooped him up, baring his fangs at Blurry, who just laughed, and waved at him dismissively. 

 

“Maybe if you had been a man about it you would know already. I took what was offered, that’s all.” He turned to Morris, and motioned impatiently with the hand not tightly grasping Tyler’s wrist. “We’re done here, let’s go.”

 

Tyler threw one last, pleading look at the  group before Blurry pulled him away, into the back of their van, and Morris got in behind them, ignoring the two as they pulled away, tires screeching on the pavement as they left the park.

 

As soon as they were out of sight, Patrick started squirming again, and Pete put him down reluctantly, moving to inspect him, to see if he was harmed.

 

He was, however, surprised when Patrick stepped forward, wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him, carefully.

 

It was a soft one, chaste, really, but Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick and kissed him back, nearly lifting him up again, until he squeaked and broke the kiss, a bit uncomfortable.

 

He took a step back, and coughed, awkward, especially when he saw that the others were staring, and how dazed Pete looked.

 

When Patrick coughed again, Pete snapped out of it. “Um, right. Let’s go back to the house, and we’ll discuss everything there, okay?”

 

Patrick rubbed his neck, feeling the raised ridges of the bite mark, and nodded, looking embarrassed. “Yeah, okay. I just--I missed you, you know?” He looked even more flustered now. “And I said I would, so…” he trailed off, avoiding Pete’s eyes.

 

They climbed into the van, Pete taking the back seat now, with Bill sitting up front with Travie and Andy with Gabe. As soon as they got in the back though, Pete nearly wrapped himself around Patrick, hugging him close, his head buried in his neck.

 

It made Patrick twitch nervously, especially when he felt Pete’s breath against the bite mark, but he didn’t complain, just leaned into his touch and hugged him back, closing his eyes and feeling as though he could relax for the first time in a while--but he couldn’t. Not with Pete’s fangs that close to his neck, but he tried, combing his fingers through Pete’s hair.

 

“I missed you,” Pete muttered, sounding choked, and Patrick gave a watery laugh, dragging Pete closer.

 

“I missed you too. And don’t you dare think this was your fault, cause if you do you’re even stupider than I once thought.”

 

Pete laughed as well, pulling back to cup Patrick’s face and rub his cheeks with his thumbs, before he swooped in to kiss him again, pulling away to mutter, “I love you,” against his mouth before he went back to kissing him, peppering kisses on his cheeks and lips, wherever he could reach.

 

Patrick laughed again, but he nuzzled Pete and kissed him back when he could, just glad to be back. He could feel the tiny pinpricks of _something_ in the back of his head, that he was sure would come back to bite him--literally, most likely--but he ignored it, basking in the glow of being _safe_.

 

When Patrick finally pulled away, breathless, he dropped his head onto Pete’s shoulder, and laughed. “Fuck,” he breathed out, sounding a bit hysterical. “I can’t--you better kick Morris’ ass when it comes to fighting, because if you don’t I’m never having sex with you, ever.”

 

“You got it,” Pete said, sounding serious, even with the silly looking grin on his face. He looked besotted, and Patrick blushed just a little, huffing.

 

“Stop with the face. And I’m telling the truth--you better get Tyler back safe, too, cause with what Blurry’s got planned, Tyler needs rescuing, _quick_.”

 

Pete’s smile faded, and he nodded. “You know I’m going to. No one deserves to be with that creep any longer than they have to--which is not at all. Seriously though, I’ve got a plan, okay? Everything’s gonna go fine, you just worry about not getting hurt.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause that’s gonna work. Look, Pete--he said that he like, thinks I’m interesting, or something. He wants me, okay? Like, he was really creepy, talking about him and Tyler and me being ‘one big happy family,’ or whatever. I’m stuck in the middle of this, whether you like it or not.”

 

Pete scowled. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it, though. You’re gonna be protected though, I swear. You’re not gonna be alone--Joe and Andy will be with you, and when they aren’t, Gabe and Travie will. We made a schedule for this.”

 

Patrick huffed, but didn’t protest, even though the tiny voice in the back of his head was _screaming_ about being alone with multiple vampires--he was alone with them right _now_! “Fine, whatever. But only because I don’t wanna get grabbed again.” He paused. “And because I like them.”

 

Pete laughed a little, and tugged Patrick even closer, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “You’re damn right you like them. And they like you too, which is why they’re doing this.”

 

Patrick leaned into him for comfort, ignoring the fact that the other four could totally hear them. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll thank them later, okay? For now, let’s just, you know. Not hang out?”

 

Pete clutched him possessively. “Yeah, no. You’re not leaving my sight anytime soon.” He eyed Patrick’s neck, “and we should probably have a talk, about what happened.”

 

Patrick bit his lip, and nodded, before he buried his face in Pete’s shoulder, staying quiet for the rest of the trip back.

 

He wasn’t _tired_ , per se, because Blurry made him sleep until he dragged him to the van, but he was overtired, definitely. Too much sleep kind of sucked. And hiding his face just gave him a moment to _breathe_ , without anyone knowing what he was thinking. It was seriously, _seriously_ nice to be back, but.

  
But. He felt nervous just thinking about being in a house full of fucking _vampires_ , who drank blood, and _god_. He was very, _very_  aware of how many vampires were in the house, and how many of them he knew--not enough, because there were still plenty of vampires who could consider him to be a snack food, and he was not comfortable about that, not at _all_.


	142. Chapter 142

When they got back to the garage, Joe was waiting for them, sort of impatiently. He was fidgeting, and when the van stopped, he perked up, seeming to hold his breath as the door slid open, and all of them spilled out, Pete and Patrick taking up the rear. He looked relieved, definitely, and nearly ran forward, stopping only a few feet away from them.

 

“Hey,” he said breathlessly. “Are you okay? What happened?” He paused, just a little, as Patrick untangled from Pete, before he nearly tackled Patrick into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, “we shouldn’t have left you alone like that.”

 

Patrick was frozen for a moment, before he squeezed Joe back, nearly yelping when Joe got up, dragging him up off the ground with him. 

 

“I’m fine, I swear. No worse for the wear, really. And hey, it’s not your fault--how were you supposed to know that I was randomly gonna be abducted? You weren’t even near me when it happened.”

 

“Yeah, but still--” Joe pulled back, and his eyes searched Patrick’s face, lingering on the bruise, and the bite mark. He sucked in a breath. “Fuck, what happened to your face?”

 

Andy coughed, and tried to pull Joe away from Patrick. “Okay, let’s not suffocate him. Pete’s gonna take him back to their room, and we’ll see them later okay? C’mon.”

 

Joe pulled Patrick into another quick hug before Andy pulled him away, and out of the garage, as the rest of them trailed out behind them, leaving Pete and Patrick alone to walk back to their room.

 

As soon as they had left though, Pete immediately scooped Patrick up again and began carrying him. It made Patrick yelp, and wrap his arms around Pete's neck, breath stuttering for a moment.

 

"Any particular reason you felt you had to carry me?" he asked, tightening his hold as Pete began walking.

 

"Because I want to? And because I want to get there fast."

 

Patrick rolled his eyes but didn't protest, and let Pete carry him all the way back to the room, which, he noticed, had a new door, and far more locks than before.

 

Patrick let out a silent 'oh’ when Pete set him down to open the door, and his eyes widened a bit at just how _many_  keys Pete had on him, and how many he needed to get in.

 

"When did you do that? Because, well, it wasn't--"

 

"Yesterday," Pete replied absently, opening the door. "It's the same on your door. I wanted to make sure nothing could happen again."

 

As soon as the door _was_  open, Pete scooped Patrick up to begin carrying him again, kicking the door closed behind him before he set Patrick down on his bed before he went to lock the door, which made Patrick roll his eyes, although he was a bit grateful, secretly.

 

"I'm not dainty or like, fragile, you know. You don't need to carry me around, because I can walk. In fact, I like walking. It's one of my favorite things."

 

Pete finished doing up the locks and walked back to the bed, collapsing onto it and immediately wrapping himself around Patrick like a particularly clingy snake.

 

"Don't care," Pete finally muttered. "I can't let that happen again--fuck, I was so worried, and I was right to be! Your cheek--your _neck_ \--fuck Patrick, I'm so sorry, this shouldn't have ever happened."

 

Patrick patted his back and worried his lip, as he tried to get them both more comfortable, which Pete let him do when he realized he wasn’t trying to escape, loosening his hold until Patrick stilled, and then he clung even more tightly than before.

 

“Pete, there’s no way I’m gonna get hurt in here, you can let me go, you know,” Patrick said gently, stroking his back soothing. Pete stared up at him, before he wormed up to kiss him, softly.

 

“Can’t help but be paranoid about it--sorry.” He did sit up though, back against the headboard, where he dragged Patrick up between his thighs, so he could lean back against Pete’s chest.

 

Patrick sighed, and patted his thigh. “Well, at least you know it’s stupid, I guess,” he finally said. “But seriously, I probably smell really bad, and I kind of want a shower as soon as possible, so--”

 

Pete buried his head in Patrick’s neck, before recoiling. “Okay, yeah, you kinda need one, yeah.”

 

Patrick elbowed him, making Pete let out a groan. “Asshole,” he said affectionately. “Seriously though, lemme go.”

 

Pete loosened his hold, “I’ll get you some clothes then,” he said quickly. “Nothing weird, just pajamas, and stuff.”

 

“I wasn’t worried until you said that--but fine, whatever. Just put them outside the door and I’ll get them.”

 

“What, you don’t want me coming in with you?” Pete asked teasingly, laughing when Patrick elbowed him again. 

 

“Shut up, you’re not seeing me naked until marriage--you’re lucky you even got a kiss from me earlier.”

 

Pete huffed, and let go of Patrick, letting him roll off the bed, and onto his feet. “That’s not very nice--you liked kissing me, didn’t you? I know I do.”

 

He pouted when Patrick didn’t reply, and Patrick could feel himself smiling a little goofily, before he tried to contain himself, and rolled his eyes as he leaned in close and brushed his lips against Pete’s cheek.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Patrick said affectionately. “I love you, but seriously.” 

 

Pete grinned up at him fondly, before getting up as well. “Yeah, yeah, I’m the biggest idiot ever. Go take your shower, brat, I’ll get you something to wear.” He paused, eyeing the curve of Patrick’s neck for a long, uncomfortable moment. “And some bandages, and disinfectant. Looks like you need it.”

 

Patrick flushed and looked away, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Right, well. I guess we’re gonna have to talk about this later?”

 

Pete nodded seriously. “You know it. But go on, take your shower, and relax. You’ve had a rough few days.”

  
Patrick leaned in and kissed him quickly again--okay, so maybe he was kind of into kissing Pete, now that he’d actually done it. Pete was _nice_  about it, nicer than he expected, anyways, and he didn’t try to like, deepen it, or anything.


	143. Chapter 143

He went into the bathroom and locked the door out of habit, stripping out of his clothes and glancing just the once at the mirror, and he cringed. Fuck, the bruise on his cheek looked fucked up--worse in the light of the bathroom, and he brought shaking fingers up to touch the bite mark, tracing it carefully.

 

It looked bad. It had already scarred, and he could see--and feel--every imprint of Blurry’s teeth. He pulled his hand away abruptly and inspected his wrists as well--he hadn’t done _deep_  cuts, thankfully, but it didn’t change the fact that they too had scarred over, presumably from Blurry’s saliva, or whatever.

 

He turned around and turned on the shower, more than ready to relax after what he’d been through. He felt _dirty_ , after everything he’d been through--the fucking  _blood_ , Jesus. Blurryface was a cunning dickhead, that’s for sure, and he hated the thought that Tyler--and Devin--were stuck with him.

 

When he got out of the shower Pete had ever so helpfully left clothes in the doorway--clothes, he noticed, were not his. He rolled his eyes and grabbed them, shutting the door so he could dry off and get into them. At least they fit, compared to what Pete had given them before--and they weren’t as gaudy either. 

 

The pajama bottoms were worn and threadbare, but comfortable--warmer than they looked--and the shirt was overlarge, and purple. Definitely Gabe’s then, if his penance for the color had anything to do with that, and the size.

 

Seriously, he had to roll the bottom part of bottoms up, and the shirt had a low enough neckline that his collarbone--and the bite mark--were on display. He ignored it, if only because he was tired, and Pete was right _there_ , and warm, and cuddly.

 

Also, bigger bed. It meant he wouldn’t have to share space, if he didn’t want to--which seemed _awesome_ , after waking up with Blurry staring at him while he slept. Fucking _terrifying_.

 

Pete was right where he expected him--laying in bed, and reading. What was unexpected were the glasses--Pete wore glasses? Vampires _needed_  glasses? It was a weird thought, but he brushed it off, instead going over to the bed and climbing in, where Pete automatically wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

 

“Hey,” he said quietly, and Patrick smiled at him, a bit goofily.

 

“Hey,” he said back, before leaning in to kiss Pete clumsily.

 

Pete pulled back and studied him for a moment, stroking his thumbs across Patrick’s cheeks as he did. “You okay,” he asked quietly. “Your cheek--the fucker Morris did that, didn’t he?”

 

Patrick nodded, and licked his lips nervously. “Yeah. I only just saw him the once, I guess. He’s a dick, all talk really. I was fine--mostly with Blurry.”

 

Pete muttered a curse. “I should’ve been there--fuck, you shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” He touched the bite mark hesitantly, and Patrick flinched, making Pete pull away. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to--fuck, Patrick, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

 

Patrick laughed at that, and shook his head. “Worry about getting Tyler out of there first, okay? Seriously, he’s fucking--he’s obsessed with Tyler, it’s all he was talking about--when he wasn’t, uh, being weird.”

 

Pete leaned in and pecked his mouth, before he pulled back and kissed both of his cheeks. “I bet. But I promise you, I’m gonna get Tyler safe--he’s gonna be fine, and you’re gonna be safe too. I’ll kill _anyone_ who tries to fuck with you again.”

 

“Thanks, that’s really reassuring,” Patrick said drily, but inwardly he was pleased. He squirmed out of Pete’s hold to lay back against the pillows with a yawn. “Enough about that, cause seriously, I don’t want Blurry ruining this for me--thanks for coming to get me, and the pajamas, and everything else. I love you.”

  
Pete laid back as well, throwing his arm over Patrick’s chest to bring him closer, before he kissed his shoulder softly. “Love you too, Trick. Get some sleep--no one’s gonna hurt you, or be creepy or anything. I’ll protect you.”


	144. Chapter 144

Tyler, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling nearly as safe. When they had gotten into the van, Blurry had pulled him into the back, of fucking _course_.

 

“I missed you,” Blurry whispered against his neck, and Tyler shuddered, trying to edge away. He couldn’t though, with Blurry’s hold on his arm. 

 

To Tyler’s horror, he found himself opening his mouth and responding. “I missed you too, Blurry. Thank you for coming to get me.”

 

He could feel his breath get shakier, as Blurry abruptly released his influence on him, leaning in to bite at Tyler’s bottom lip and get him to gasp, before he deepened the kiss, his hands now on Tyler’s face to hold him still firmly, and Tyler just took it, eyes closed as he tried to ignore who was kissing him.

 

He was _very_  aware of the eyes on them, and he shuddered, flinching when something was thrown at them.

 

“For fuck’s sake,” someone called back at them. “As pretty as you two look--like twins and shit--there has to be a better place to do this. Seriously, don’t have sex in the van.”

 

Blurry pulled away and bared his teeth at whoever spoke, dragging Tyler into his lap. “I think you should only speak when spoken to, honestly. So be good and shut your mouth until I tell you that you can speak again.” He paused, hands drifting down to squeeze Tyler’s hips. “Who knows--maybe if you’re good I’ll let you open your mouth before you starve to death.”

 

Tyler inhaled shakily, and tried to pull away, hands nearly shaking. “Blurry,” he said quietly. “C’mon, don’t do this. Just leave him alone, he’s right.” He shivered, and averted his eyes when Blurry looked back at him.

 

Despite that, Tyler steeled himself. “I would much rather, um, not do this in front of other people. Please Blurry?”

 

Blurry pulled him closer, and smiled at him softly. “For you? Of course.” Just when Tyler was going to relax though, Blurry dug his nails into his hips. “Don’t think that you’re not getting out of this though. You got away once, you’re _not_  getting away again.”

 

To prove his point, he bit down on the bite mark, hard, making Tyler stiffen up and nearly shriek, trying to pull away from Blurry, his hands shoving against Blurry’s shoulders.

 

“Stop it, just _stop_ , please Blurry, c’mon, that _hurts_ \--I’m not gonna--I’m _yours_.”

 

Blurry pulled back, and licked his lips. “Aw, you’re learning. Didn’t even have to make you say it.”

 

Morris sighed, and twisted around in his seat. “For fuck’s sake--would you chill out? Do that in your room, at least it’s fucking sound proofed.”

 

Blurry sighed, and pouted at him. It wasn’t a particularly innocent look--Blurry did have blood around his mouth.

 

“My room has a guest, and I doubt they want to witness anything like that.” He paused thoughtfully. “Actually, perhaps they can be of some help--I always did enjoy having a snack nearby.”

 

Tyler’s eyes widened with horror, and oh _fuck_ , that was what Patrick meant when he said ‘take care of Devin,’ wasn’t it? “You--you have a _human_ in your room?”

 

“Of course I do,” Blurry said, as if it was obvious. “I needed _something_ to give you when you finally came back to me--and what’s this I hear about you drinking _coconut water_ instead of blood? That’s not how I raised you.”

 

Tyler squirmed. “You didn’t _raise_ me. You kidnapped me, bit me, and tortured me until I stopped fighting back.”

 

Blurry didn’t even have to speak. He simply looked at Tyler, who bit his lip and abruptly shut up, looking extremely uncomfortable.

 

Morris kept looking at them, and whistled lowly. “Seriously? That’s, well--honestly, I should’ve expected that.”

 

Blurry dug his nails into Tyler’s skin possessively. “Yes, you really should have--I can’t have you thinking I’m _soft_ \--” he bared his teeth. “Would you like to see just how I became feared?”

 

Morris eyed him, and then Tyler, before he shook his head. “I think I can get the picture.” He paused. “Just don’t get your room too gorey. When you leave I’m gonna need that room, and I don’t wanna have to hire a maid service.”

 

Blurry rolled his eyes. “When I _do_ leave, you’re not going to be in there anymore, remember? Or did you expect me to go back on my promise and leave you to deal with Wentz and Beckett by yourself?”

 

Morris held up his hands defensively. “Of course I don’t think that--I know you’re not leaving without that Patrick kid, anyways.” He paused. “You want anyone else, or can we kill the rest of them?”

 

Tyler looked horrified, and Blurry flashed him a mocking grin. “I don’t know--kill those that fight, and then the rest we can decide if they’re useful or not, and then divide them up among our groups.”

 

Tyler bit his lip hard, because he didn’t want to say anything that would make Blurry pissed off.

 

Of course, he still had the connection with him, and Blurry went quiet as well--at least, that’s what the other people in the van heard.

 

**So, you and Josh, huh? I knew I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.**

 

Tyler scowled. _You’re the one who turned him, and got us to be friends. What did you expect to happen?_

 

**For you to _behave_  yourself. I brought him to you as a gift, because you seemed sad. I should’ve monitored you more--not left you alone with him.** Blurry’s grip on him became bruising. **Did he fuck you? Is that what this is about? Was I not paying enough attention to you?**

 

Tyler twitched. _That’s not why I ran away. I ran away because you_ kidnapped me _, and held me captive for four years. And then you went and kidnapped Josh! Of course I wanted to leave--and_ ow _, let me go please, that hurts._

 

Blurry didn’t pay any attention to that. **I guess I’ll just have to keep you with me, rather than just locking you away--I wanted to keep you to myself, and that failed, especially since I got him for you. Don’t worry though--I’ll make sure he can’t get between us anymore. And those other two--Jenna and Debby? They’re dead too, as soon as I get the chance.**

 

That made Tyler swallow hard, and he shook his head, expression now pleading. _Don’t, okay? You leave them--and Josh--alone, and I’ll be good, I promise. I won’t fight back, and I won’t argue, okay? Just--leave them alone. They don’t even know I’m gone, so they’re not gonna come after me._

  
It took a moment, but Blurry sighed. “Right, well, I’ll think about that. For now though, we’re here.” He shoved Tyler out of his lap, and opened the door, before he grabbed Tyler and picked him up. “I suppose I’ll introduce you to my blood bank--goodbye, Morris, we’ll talk soon,” he said, and then he began walking briskly for his room, not even bothering to pay attention when Morris called after him.

"Hey--Blurryface, we still need to talk about the plan--dammit--!"


	145. Chapter 145

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for non-consensual kissing in this chapter

Tyler stayed completely silent on the walk back to Blurry’s room. It was humiliating being carried, like he was a child, and it didn’t help that people did a double take when they saw them--presumably because he looked like Blurry’s twin, finally come home from a rebellious stage. He hated it.

 

As soon as they got into the room--Blurry locking the door behind them--he squirmed, dropping out of Blurry’s hold and shifting into a more defensive stance, eying him warily. 

 

“Why?” He asked quietly. “Why couldn’t you just let me go? It’s not like I was doing anything _wrong_ , leaving.”

 

Blurry scowled, and took a step closer, making Tyler shift back. “That’s where you’re wrong--you’re _mine_ , and I don’t take well to things that belong to me disappearing--or being stolen.”

 

Tyler’s mouth dropped open slightly in shock (and he didn’t miss the way Blurry’s eyes flicked down to stare at it). “Are you kidding? I didn’t--no one stole me! I left because you’re--you--I didn’t want to be there, at all. I _hated_  it, and you.”

 

“That,” Blurry said quietly, “is not very nice. You’re going to apologize now.”

 

Tyler folded his arms across his chest defensively, and took another step back. “No, I’m not. You--you’re not in charge of me.”

 

Blurry continued staring at him, and Tyler averted his eyes without thinking about it, before he took a deep breath. “I--I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn to you.” He swallowed hard. “Please don’t--I’ll be good.”

 

Blurry finally sighed, shaking his head. “I suppose that’s good enough, for now, anyways. Now use your manners, will you? Introduce yourself, it’s only polite.”

 

Tyler turned around, and stared blankly at Devin, who waved awkwardly. 

 

“Hi. You, uh. You look different, than I expected,” they said, when Tyler didn’t speak.

 

He nodded slowly. “What did you expect me to look like?”

 

They flailed their arm at Blurry, barely glancing at him. “More like him, I guess. You’re like, softer? I guess? You’re not all angle-y. And you have--you look nicer,” they finished rather awkwardly.

 

Tyler blinked. “Right. You’re Devin, yeah?”

 

They brightened. “Yeah. Patrick’s okay right? I kinda grew fond of him. Bonding through adversity, or something.”

 

Blurry scowled. “Patrick’s fine--but he’d be better if he was here, with us. And I didn’t tell you that you could speak.”

 

Their mouth snapped closed, and Tyler whirled around to glare at him. “Why did you do that? You told me to introduce myself.”

 

He stared at Tyler blankly, before responding as if Tyler was a young child. “Yes--I told _you_  to introduce yourself. I never said anything about them introducing themself.”

 

Tyler opened his mouth to respond, but, finding nothing to say, awkwardly closed it, and hunched over himself.

 

Blurry rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to be so _down_ , you know. I’m not going to _hurt_  you--too badly, anyways. I am going to feed you, though. Isn’t that nice?”

 

Tyler wrinkled his nose, and glanced over at Devin. “I hope that you mean you have a vegan substitution, because I don’t _drink_  blood. I haven’t since I left. I don’t like it.”

 

Blurry laughed at him, moving closer. “Oh, it’s cute how you think you have a choice in all this. But the truth is? If you don’t eat now, that’s fine. You’ll get hungrier, and hungrier, until you can’t control yourself. At least if you eat now there’s a chance you won’t _kill_  someone.”

 

Tyler balked, and tried to avoid Blurry by backing up another step, his back hitting the wall, and allowing Blurry to get in his face.

 

“So,” he said, drawing out the word. “Are you going to go on a strike until you’re hungry enough to kill, or are you going to be good and eat when I tell you to?”

 

Tyler looked away, which only made Blurry pull at the shirt collar, nearly ripping it, to nip at the bite mark on one side of his neck. “Well,” he breathed out, making Tyler shiver. “What’s it gonna be, baby boy?”

 

Tyler flinched violently, pulling away from him. In a wavery voice he said, "you can't call me that--that's not--that's not yours to call me."

 

Blurry sighed, and nuzzled the mark on his neck--and now that Devin could see it, they noticed that it wasn't a clean mark at all--it looked _violent_ , as if Blurry had taken a chunk out of Tyler's neck.

 

"Now, now," Blurry scolded, "that's not true at all--I mean, I _am_  your sire--so you are my childe, and you're young enough--"

 

"Stop it," Tyler said loudly. "Seriously, just--you're digging an even deeper, and creepier, hole than you need. Just--I get it, but _please_  don't call me that."

 

Blurry rolled his eyes. “I meant in terms of how young you are compared to me. If we’re talking about when I turned you, then you're--what, twenty two?--and I’m twenty six; a perfectly respectable age to have relations--”

 

Tyler buried his face in his hands and groaned. “Please just, stop. Please. This is awkward and I just don't wanna be called baby boy, okay? That's it.”

 

Blurry stared at him, his face a blank mask. “Do you not want to be called baby boy in general, or just by me?”

 

When Tyler didn't answer, Blurry, quicker than expected, shoved Tyler back against the wall again and leaned in close. “You better get used to it, _baby boy_ , because you're _mine_. I’ll call you whatever I like.”

 

Tyler averted his eyes, and didn't seem to want to move, in case Blurry decided to strike again. And after a moment Blurry stepped back, face impassive again. 

 

“I think you've learned your lesson--I expect it's one I won't have to teach you again?”

 

Tyler swallowed hard and nodded wordlessly, and Blurry was back to smiling, like he hadn't just threatened him. “Well, I’m glad that this was taken care of. Now, I have to go discuss a few things with Morris--both of you be good, will you?” He looked at Tyler, and winked. “Don't feed unless I'm here, okay? I don't want you losing control and leaving me with a corpse--you have no idea how hard it is to get fresh blood like this; it doesn't just fall into your lap.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye Tyler could see Devin make a face--the same one that was most likely mirrored on his own.

 

But when Blurry turned to leave, Tyler shifted, and blurted out, “wait--”

 

That made Blurry pause and look at him, and Tyler shuffled his feet. “Um, can you let them talk? I don't--it'd be awkward in here if we were just quiet.”

 

Blurry raised an eyebrow at him, and Tyler licked his lips nervously. “What,” Blurry said slowly, “is in it for me?”

 

Tyler wrung his hands, and avoided Blurry’s eyes. “I, um. I’ll be good? And, um. I won't fight back, when you kiss me, and--stuff.”

 

“‘Stuff?’” He replied, sounding amused. “I’m going to need you to be more specific than that.”

 

Tyler looked more than a bit embarrassed when he finally spoke again, in a tinier voice than before. “Sex. And your--when you get violent. Please?”

 

Blurry hummed, and, crooking his finger, motioned Tyler forward, and he dragged his feet until he was standing in front of Blurry, who grabbed his face and yanked him bruising kiss, which Tyler went along with, if only because Blurry bit his bottom lip hard, to get him to open his mouth.

 

Tyler clutched at Blurry’s sweatshirt, kissing back reluctantly, and when Blurry’s hands dropped away from his face to grab his hips and pull him closer, Tyler finally pulled away, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to check for damage.

 

Blurry squeezed his hips, and finally stepped away, looking at Tyler. “Fine,” he spoke. “You two can talk while I’m gone.” His eyes flicked down to study Tyler’s clothes. “And change your clothes, will you? They don’t smell like you.”

  
Tyler nodded, and watched as Blurry walked out silently. As soon as he left, the door’s lock clicking closed, Tyler slid down the wall to sit down, hands shaking as he tried to steady his breathing, and grabbed his bag to look through it for clothes. Not for Blurry, but for comfort, really.


	146. Chapter 146

Devin kept quiet, watching him for a moment, before they got off the bed carefully and walked over to Tyler, sinking down beside him.

 

They were both quiet for a moment, before Tyler sighed, and turned to look at them. “Hey, you okay? How long have you been stuck here? I’m sorry about Blurry. He’s--he’s always been like this.”

 

Devin shrugged. “I’m not the one he’s obsessed with--I’m just the food. Are you okay though? He looked kind of--” they winced. “rough? And what are you looking for?”

 

Tyler pulled out a bottle, and showed the label to Devin. “This. I have enough to not get hungry for a while, if he doesn’t decide to destroy everything I own. And it’s fine, I’m used to it, from before. At least I’m not the one getting snacked on.”

 

Devin patted his back sympathetically, “it’s not _that_ bad, really. Like sure, he’s drinking my blood and everything, but at least he’s not interested in me as anything more than that.”

 

“Well, don’t worry--I’m not gonna like, drink from you, anytime soon.” He hesitated. “Do you need to call someone? Because I have a phone--he’ll take it soon, but--”

 

“Yeah, actually, I need to call into work, let them know I can’t make it in.” They paused. “Uh, so, do you know if we’re getting rescued or anything? Or--”

 

“We’re not,” Tyler said quietly. “My, um, friends don’t know that I’ve come here, and if we did try to leave he’d just come after us, or Patrick again. I don’t want that.”

 

Devin quieted as well, drawing their legs up to their chest. “Oh. Well, at least Patrick’s safe.”

 

Tyler laughed a little, bitter. “Yeah, until they decide to attack the house, and kill everyone.”

 

“Well, he doesn’t want Patrick dead? No offense but he’s kind of obsessed with Patrick. Not in the same way as you? But, like. He does want to change him, and stuff.”

 

Tyler dropped his head back against the wall with a thunk. “Frick. He probably wants to keep some survivors as well, to build up his base again. This isn’t good.”

 

“Couldn’t you text someone and let them know that?” Devin asked, sensibly. “I mean, you do have your phone. Leave a voice mail or something, and then hide the phone.”

 

“I _can’t_. He--we’re connected. If I did that he’d know. He probably knows already, actually--frick.”

 

Devin patted his shoulder awkwardly. “Well, maybe if you give your bag to me I can hide it?”

 

They both glanced around the rather spartan room, and Devin coughed awkwardly. “Okay, so that’s maybe not the best idea. But, um. Maybe you could keep it if you go along with his thing? The whole blood drinking thing. Chug the whatever, and then you won’t be hungry enough to take much. Right?”

 

“That’s not how it’s going to work,” Tyler said dully. “He’s going to take my bag and destroy it when he gets back, most likely, and then I’m going to starve until I agree to drink your blood. And _then_ , knowing him, I’ll continue to starve until I’m ready to drain you dry.”

 

“Oh,” Devin said in a tiny voice. “I mean, I’d rather you do it than him? At least then I know my blood’s going to a good cause.”

 

Tyler laughed, slightly hysterical. “Oh god, that doesn’t make me feel any better-- I don’t want to kill you--I don’t want to kill _anyone_.”

 

“I know you don’t, but this is me telling you that if anyone had to do it, I’d want it to be you.” They wrinkled their nose. “At least then it’s not going to Blurry, or one of the other vampires who actually wants my blood.”

 

“It’s not gonna happen anytime soon, so we’re pretty much stuck together until I starve or you die, whichever comes first,” Tyler said grimly.

 

“Pretty sure you starving is gonna happen first,” Devin said, trying to remain chipper. “I mean, hey, he’s probably not gonna kill me, seeing as he wants you to, so I’m probably gonna be fed, and stuff. Look on the bright side, it’s gonna be a humane death at least.”

 

“But what’re you going to eat? There’s no food in here, and the only reason he’d go out is to get more blood--not human food.”

 

Devin shrugged. “Then I’ve got three weeks or so before I starve. It’ll be fine, I’m sure. But seriously, wouldn’t my blood taste funny if I was starving? So he would feed me.”

 

“Why are you so _okay_  with that thought? You’re going to die, one way or another, and it won’t be a nice death!”

 

“Because _someone_  needs to not freak out.” They took a deep breath. “Look, Tyler--I’m gonna die. My best scenario is you doing it, and the worst is--I dunno--Blurry doing it, or starving to death, or him giving me to the other vampires. I’m _trying_  to remain optimistic, or else I’m going to freak out, and cry. Do you want me to cry all over you?”

 

Mutely, Tyler shook his head. “See? So let me have this tiny bit of hope, okay?”

  
He took a deep breath, and nodded, and so Devin patted his shoulder again, before squirming to sit cross legged. “Okay, good. Now, you should probably change clothes before he gets back--and drink that stuff, unless you want him to dump it.”


	147. Chapter 147

Tyler gave them a look, and Devin shrugged. “I’m not gonna look, don’t worry.” To demonstrate their point, they closed their eyes, before covering them with their hands.

 

Tyler got up carefully, and snagged his bag, quickly changing out of the clothes he was given--the others were put back into his bag. The clothes he had chosen were second-hand--Jenna’s hoodie, that he had stolen ages ago, and a pair of Josh’s ripped jeans, and even though they smelled like him more than anything, they still reminded him of who he left behind, and that was the point of it.

 

When he was finally dressed, he turned around and saw Devin, who was still seated on the bed, hands covering their eyes, and he relaxed a bit, pulling the sleeves of the hoodie over his hands before he cleared his throat and grabbed a bottle from his bag.

 

Devin turned around, and smiled slightly at him, their eyes flicking down to the bottle. “How many of those do you have,” they asked, curious. “And, uh. If you don’t mind me asking, how exactly does that work like blood? Is it just as good, or?”

 

Tyler settled on the bed as well, a little bit away from Devin, and opened the bottle, taking a swig. His fingers twitched even as he did it, a nervous tic that hadn’t disappeared, even when he was turned. “It, uh. It’s not quite the same? You have to drink more of it, and it doesn’t taste as good as blood would, but. Well, it’s better than drinking blood, you know? I just--I can’t stomach it.”

 

Devin nodded silently, and sat quietly while Tyler finished the bottle, before he stowed it away in his backpack, and stared at Devin awkwardly, who stared back at him.

 

It was clear that neither of them wanted to be there, but when the silence became too stifling, Tyler twitched a bit, and cleared his throat, attempting to speak. But when he could think of no topics, he shut his mouth, and slumped against the wall, pulling his knees up to mirror Devin.

 

They stayed that way for quite some time--in fact, Devin was nearly dozing when they heard the click of the lock turning, and Devin turned to Tyler, trying to keep a brave face on.

 

Blurry came in, practically beaming, although his smile (his creepy, _unsettling_  smile) dropped when he saw that Devin was still alive, and Tyler looked no more closer to killing them than he had when he left.

 

When his eyes flicked down to Tyler’s bag, and then back up to what Tyler was wearing, his frown deepened, and he strode closer. “I do hope you haven’t packed anything naughty in your bag. I realize I should’ve checked your bag before I left, but I thought you would’ve been smarter than to bring anything bad with you.”

 

He paused, shutting the door behind him as Tyler remained mute. When he turned back around, he motioned at Tyler. “Well? Bring me your bag, _now_  Tyler.”

 

Tyler lowered his gaze and slunk over to Blurry, who immediately grabbed his bag and began looking through it, sliding Tyler’s phone into his pocket when he came across it, which just made Tyler’s shoulders slump further. 

 

“You should know better,” Blurry chided, finishing his inspection of Tyler’s bag. “Granted, you have been away from me for a long time--it’s given you bad manners.”

 

Tyler mumbled something indistinct, which Blurry apparently didn’t appreciate, because he backhanded Tyler _hard_ , sending him sprawling to the ground.

 

“Yes,” he said calmly, “you definitely need to relearn your manners. I won’t have you slumping and moping around, and I _definitely_ won’t have you being rude. Apologize now, or you won’t like the consequences.”

 

Tyler sat up slowly, eyeing Blurry warily, before he dropped his gaze, “I’m sorry, Blurry. I didn’t mean to--to talk back to you. Please forgive me.”

 

Blurry crouched down, cupping Tyler’s face, and didn’t say anything, instead studying his handprint on Tyler’s cheek, almost admiringly. 

 

“I always did like your skin,” he mused quietly. “It always marked up so pretty for me.”

 

Devin could see Tyler’s fists clench and unclench, but he didn’t say anything, even though he was obviously uncomfortable, and Devin felt a stab of pity surge through them.

 

Their brother always did say they were too nice for their own good, they mused, before they cleared their throat to get Blurry’s attention.

 

“So, like. Does that mean that vampires can bruise? Because a bruise is just blood rushing to the surface of the skin, and vampires don’t really have any blood besides the stuff they’ve drank, right?”

 

Blurry narrowed his eyes dangerously at them, and stood up smoothly, moving towards them predatorily slowly, as Tyler shook his head and made throat cutting motions at them. But Devin only had eyes for Blurry, who was shorter than them, yes, but not while they were sitting, and especially when he grabbed their throat quickly and hauled them up so he could look them in the eye, glaring menacingly as they choked, clawing at his hand.

 

“You,” he said, eerily calm, “do not need to know that. You’re just a blood bank, you got that? You don’t get to ask questions, got it? I tolerated it when the boy was here, but not anymore.”

 

Devin nodded, best they could, and after another few moments of Devin’s face slowly turning blue, Blurry released them, letting them thump onto the ground as they gasped and gagged for breath, hand clutching their throat as they tried to massage it as if it would help them breathe. 

 

Tyler swallowed hard, and dug his nails into his palms, trying to control his breathing, as Blurry straightened up and dusted off his clothes, turning back to Tyler, who stared up at Blurry blankly as he grinned, almost like a child who saw his favorite toy.

 

“I can’t wait to watch your rip their throat out. It will be just like before--you all covered in blood, just as strong as you used to be and victorious. Absolutely stunning.”

 

With that said, he strode over to Tyler to brush a kiss against his forehead--which would have been a comforting gesture from literally anyone else. Instead, it was one of possession, meant to show everyone--well, Devin--who Tyler belonged to, and who, in the end, he would obey.

 

He pulled away, and paused, not even bothering to glance up over at Devin as he spoke. “Be a dear, Tyler, and don’t drain them completely while I’m out. I want to save that for when we’re together--see the light drain from their eyes as you get stronger, and stronger.” He sighed, eyes closing as he imagined it, before he shook out of the thought, and stepped away from Tyler, and towards the door.

 

“I’ll be back, Tyler, with something easier to sink your teeth into than the scrawny thing over there. As delicious as they taste...they may be too tough for your fangs, since you’ve been letting them go to waste.”

 

He winked, and did an about face, striding towards the door and leaving Tyler staring emptily after him, his eyes glassy as it began to sink in what exactly was in store for him here.

 

Without even noticing, his shoulders began shaking, and he sank to his knees, hands fumbling as he ran them through his hair agitatedly, tugging and pulling, as if the pain would make him wake up from this nightmare. So caught up in himself, he didn’t even notice when Devin took shaky half steps towards him and fell to their knees beside him, wrapping a careful arm around him.

 

“Shh,” they said soothingly, “it’s okay. You’re gonna get out of this, I promise. Patrick said--Patrick said that he’s gonna make sure they get you safe, okay? And you have to have some friends there besides Patrick. Someone’s gonna miss you and want you back.”

 

Tyler choked on a laugh, and shook his head. “If they knew what was good for them,” he said hoarsely, “they’d forget I exist, and focus more on getting rid of Morris, and everything, before it’s too late. I’m not that important.”

 

Devin, sensing he wouldn’t budge, changed topics, keeping their calm, soothing voice. “Okay, okay. Take deep breaths for me. The more you panic, the less time you have to plan for when Blurry comes back. Just look at me, match your breathing to mine.”

  
It took a few moments, but Tyler shakily began breathing with them, eyes closed and shuddering slightly as he did, and Devin made sure not to touch him as they monitored him, until he seemed to have finally regulated himself. Devin had contented themself with that, and sat back on their heels, searching his face carefully for a sign of another panic attack.


	148. Chapter 148

Instead though, Tyler spoke, voice higher than it was previously. “I don’t even need to breathe.”

 

Devin blinked, and let out a tiny noise of surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I guess you wouldn’t need to, seeing as you’re dead, right? Or, well. Undead.”

 

Tyler nodded, and wrung his hands, taking deep, steady breaths, regardless of what he had told Devin previously. Devin, rather than saying anything else, stroked his back, and tried to be soothing in the only way they knew how to be.

 

When the door began to creak open, Tyler looked up, fear in his eyes, and--

 

Mikey Way awoke with a start. Gerard stirred in the bed next to him, mumbling sleepily, before they turned to him with a questioning noise.

 

“Mikey?” They said, and when Mikey didn’t reply they sat up, more awake. “Mikey,” they said more urgently, “what happened? Did you have another dream?”

 

Mikey registered somewhere in the back of his head that he was shaking. “I think I know where Tyler is,” he said distantly.

 

Gerard’s face popped into his view, looking worried. “That’s good, right? What did you see--do you need me to get Pete?”

 

Mikey shook his head, and struggled to get untangled from the covers of his bed. “I, I think I should go myself.” He blinked out of his stupor when Gerard began helping him, grabbing a shirt and tossing it to him. 

 

“I’ll come with you then,” they said firmly. “I’m not leaving you to Pete’s wrath on your own, even if you do have the information he needs. C’mon.”

 

Mikey flashed them a grateful look, and then pulled the shirt on, standing up and brushing off his jeans ineffectively. “Yeah, okay. Lead the way.”

 

Gerard nodded, and headed for the door, opening it quickly before they grabbed Mikey’s hand and tugged him along. There were some people still wandering the halls--insomnia, maybe, or looking for a midnight snack, but no one glanced their way. They were all used to the Way siblings roaming the halls, hair a mess as they acted on their own whims.

 

That was also why no one stopped them from going straight to Pete’s door, and Gerard ineffectively straightened out Mikey’s shirt before they knocked loudly on the door.

 

“Pete--hey Pete, we got a problem,” Gerard called loudly, and they would’ve woken up those around them, if the hallway Pete’s door was located hadn’t been isolated.

 

When Mikey heard the locks clicking open, Mikey grabbed Gerard’s hand, as they had gotten a bit too enthusiastic with their knocking. A few moments later, Pete opened the door, wide awake, his hair mussed from his pillow, and if Mikey squinted, he could see Patrick, sitting up in the bed and staring at the doorway.

 

Gerard waved.

 

“What? What’s going on, why the fuck are you here at--fucking noon? I could’ve been sleeping.”

 

“You weren’t, though,” Gerard countered cheerfully. “And this is important. Mikey had a vision.”

 

Pete’s look of anger slowly morphed into one of understanding. “Really? What of? What happened?” He said intently.

 

Mikey shrugged, until Gerard elbowed him. He gave them a wounded look. “Ow. I think I know where Blurryface is located though--and maybe some of his plan? I’m only really getting flashes, of what Tyler’s doing, but he wasn’t blindfolded when they took him to his base, so I could maybe piece it together?”

 

Pete ran his hand through his hair, a bit more upbeat. “You think? Fuck, okay--do you need me to get you a map so you can lay out where they went?”

  
Mikey, if someone were to look closely at his face, looked a little...embarrassed. “I, uh. I’m not good with directions. I can tell you Blurry’s plan, what I know of it, and I could try to meditate to see more of it. But you’re better off using the tracker you put in Tyler’s clothes, before Blurry destroys them, because they don’t smell like him. “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, and I'm sorry for the long wait. If I don't update soon, just shoot me an ask or something at FandomAnon on tumblr, or on here.


	149. Chapter 149

Pete wasn't looking at him--instead he had a faraway look in his eye before he clenched his teeth and nodded slightly, as if he didn't want to betray any emotion. And perhaps Mikey would have said something, if it weren't for the fact that he was slammed into another vaguely prophetic dream that caused him to stumble. He would've fallen if not for Gerard’s support, but he didn't notice--couldn't notice over the ringing in his ears and the muffled /something/ echoing in his head.

 

_ “And you're saying that the boy is injured, yes? ...that he has the marks to prove he has been abused by a vampire?...not doubting you, we just need proof enough to get rid of Wentz...I know you're...yes. Yes I understand now, thank you.” _

 

When Mikey came out of the vision, the faces of the people above him were blurry, and he shook his head to clear it. It also had the benefit of making everyone--not just Gerard and Pete, but it seemed that Patrick had joined them--back up to give him space.

 

He groaned. “Blurry’s not the only problem we're going to have in this incident. I think that council that started this whole thing is trying to start a war.”

 

Pete narrowed his eyes and glared down at Mikey, and honestly, it looked as if the only thing that was holding him back from questioning further was Patrick’s gaze on them, and his hand resting carefully on Pete’s arm--like he was holding him back.

 

Mikey was thankful, for more than one reason. Even still he struggled to sit up and shrugged, eyes locked on Pete’s face.

 

“It--I think they planned it, together. Who knows, maybe they were the ones to bring Blurry in as well--I wouldn’t doubt it--but either way you can’t trust them. Have you read everything they gave you?”

 

Pete looked as though he was going to lunge at Mikey for that assumption, regardless of if Patrick was there or not, but before he could snarl an answer, Patrick spoke for him.

 

“Yeah, we both did? To make sure there was no clause that meant a war could start over, well, whatever.” He paused. “Do you think the person was working alone? Maybe it’s not the whole council, I mean, some of them have to be on our side, right?”

 

He wasn’t looking at Mikey any more, instead posing his question at Pete, who--while still looking intense--had calmed down some, wrapping an arm around Patrick’s waist and leaning on him. It wasn’t that he  _ needed _ to, per se, just that he wanted to feel Patrick’s solidness under him.

 

Mikey could relate.

 

“Even if they weren’t all working together, we still couldn’t go to them for help--they may have leaks, for one, and I don’t want fucking Blurry figuring out what we’re doing.” Pete grit his teeth. “Fuck. This changes things, just a bit--I hadn’t thought about them until now. Goddammit.” He looked about ready to shout, and Patrick ignored that, keeping a firm grip on him.

 

Gerard had been edging closer to Mikey, had figured that he’d been given enough space and could be allowed to stand, and hauled Mikey to his feet, as if he weighed as much as a kitten.

 

“Hey,” they said softly, ignoring Pete’s musing. “What did you see? Maybe we can get something from that.”

 

Mikey shrugged, rubbing the back of his head--just because Gerard had caught him, didn’t mean that the fall hadn’t hurt--and said nothing. Gerard could read it on his face though.

 

“I think,” they said slowly, “we’re gonna need to get Patrick’s wounds healed up really quickly, so there isn’t any surprise inspection that causes a war. And if we can’t heal them, then we’ll need to get a good make up artist.”

 

Pete narrowed in on them, but Gerard held his ground. “I’m just saying--either way, we’ll need a fucking healer, to make sure the bites don’t scar as much. But we’re also gonna need to hide them, and the other bruises, cause if I were them? I’d show up as soon as it wasn’t suspicious, and then make a fuss about it.”

 

Pete nodded stiffly. “Fine, I’ll see what I can--what we can do. Mikey, thanks for telling me what you know, and if you find anything else, let me know  _ immediately _ , got it? I don’t care what time it is. Gerard--just. See what you can do about make up, okay? The other situation, with Blurry, I can manage. And don’t tell anyone what you saw, got it?”

 

Gerard looked as though they were trying very hard not to roll their eyes, likely due to Pete’s demeanour--or perhaps it was because of the way he seemed to be, well. Not  _  clinging _ , because that made it sound as though Pete was hanging off of him, but Pete was definitely holding on to Patrick, partially shielding him from view. 

 

Mikey, however, just nodded, and with that Pete shut the door in their faces, and they could hear the click of the locks turning, but not much else. It seemed that Pete had decided to take his human back to bed, not that Mikey was complaining, cause he wanted the same thing, honestly.

  
When he went to turn around though, his knees nearly buckled, and it was only Gerard that stopped him yet again from falling. He was about to open his mouth to apologize, too, and suggest that maybe he should just, like, rest in front of Pete’s door, before Gerard scooped him up, wavering slightly before he carried him back to their room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry about the long wait--Big Events happened in my life, which meant I couldn't update as fast as I wanted to. For one thing, I got into a car accident that left me injured (just bruises!) and my car totaled, as well as exams and everything else. I really, really hope to update sooner, and once again, I'm sorry about the wait.


	150. Chapter 150

By the time the door had fully shut, and Pete had locked it, Patrick still hadn’t managed to get out of Pete’s hold, not that he wanted to. Pete looked as though he was going to vibrate out of his skin without the contact that Patrick was provided.

 

On the plus side though, Pete didn’t really fight it when Patrick led him back to the bed, but when they were close enough he took the lead, crawling back towards the headboard and taking Patrick with him, so Patrick could settle between his thighs, back against Pete’s chest. Pete’s arms were a welcome weight wrapped around his waist, and he settled back with a yawn, head resting against Pete’s collarbone.

 

“I can hear you thinking,” Patrick said, surprisingly--or perhaps not--lucidly. “What’s going on?”

 

Pete traced patterns on Patrick’s waist absently, still a touch more possessive than before Mikey and Gerard had showed up. “It’s just--fuck, I wasn’t expecting _this_ , and maybe I should have.”

 

Patrick craned his head back to look at Pete, who was staring--glaring--at the wall. When he didn’t elaborate, Patrick sighed, and elbowed him.

 

“You wanna tell me what you mean by that, or are you gonna keep me in the dark some more? Cause if all you’re gonna do is brood, I could be sleeping right now.”

 

Pete blinked, startled, and tightened his hold further on Patrick, nuzzling him as best he could. “I just mean...fuck, you’re _good_ , okay? You’re probably one of the best things that’s ever happened to me--life or undeath, whichever. And of fucking _course_  you come with strings attached, and you aren’t even the one who made those strings in the first place! And then Mikey comes in and tells me that not _only_  are there strings, but oh yeah, those strings? Are actually still being held by the people who gave you to me in the first place, and they’re gonna use those to screw me over and take you away from me.”

 

Pete seemed to run out of steam then, because he sagged back against the pillows as Patrick tried to process Pete’s word vomit. At least it had seemed to calm Pete down some, but even still, Patrick went to pry Pete’s hands off his waist, so he could crawl out of the space between his legs--

 

Only to turn right around, and straddle Pete’s lap, wrapping his arms around Pete’s neck as he stared straight into his eyes.

 

“You’re an idiot, okay?” 

 

It was said with fondness, but it still made Pete blink, startled, and when he went to reply Patrick continued, ignoring him. 

 

“Like...no one is going to take me away from you, and even then, you think I’d go willingly? If I’m yours, then you’re _mine_ , just as much, you asshole. No evil vampires, or human council will change that.” He paused, just for a moment, to gather steam again. “And like, I have no fucking clue what you mean by that “strings attached” comment, but like, if it’s what I think you mean, then you’re even more of an idiot than I thought. There was a _contract_ for god’s sake, and I was incentive to get you to sign.”

 

Pete pulled Patrick closer and buried his face in Patrick’s neck, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah, but--”

 

“But nothing,” Patrick said firmly, manfully ignoring the _teeth_  that were like, right next to his jugular. “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s the end of that. Nothing’s gonna separate us again. We’re gonna root out the assholes in the council, destroy Blurry and get Tyler back, and nothing is gonna spoil our wedding. It’s gonna be perfect and something I would’ve wanted my parents and siblings to come to. And _then_  we’re gonna have mindblowing sex for the first time ever, that’s so awesome that I’d regret thinking of my parents coming to the wedding, got it?”

 

Pete looked a bit stunned, and couldn’t do much more than nod, which was helped by Patrick’s hands cupping his cheeks, and forcing his head up and down. Thankfully Pete snapped out of it after that, and pulled Patrick closer to kiss him enthusiastically, which Patrick happily reciprocated. 

 

It was only when Patrick broke away, yawning--practically in Pete’s face, really, which made him flush, squirming out of Pete’s hold, which had loosened as he laughed, which Patrick thought he’d never get tired of, especially if it meant that Pete wasn’t worrying any more. 

 

When Patrick had finally made his way out of Pete’s hold, Pete calmed down, head resting back against the headboard as he smiled lazily at Patrick, making grabby hands at him. 

 

“I wasn’t making fun of you, or laughing at you, it was just...I probably shouldn’t have kept you up.” He somehow had shifted from looking relaxed to being guilty, and Patrick wanted to groan and beat sense into Pete’s head at the same time.

 

Rather than give into those thoughts, though, Patrick just rolled his eyes, laying back on the bed as he replied. “You didn’t keep me up, we were both awake when Mikey knocked, and besides that, I kept myself up to talk to you, so stop acting like it was your fault and come cuddle me--we can deal with everything else in the morning.” He blinked, and then rethought his words, “well, night, I guess. Whatever, that’s not the point. Just go the fuck to sleep so you won’t get even more down on yourself.”

 

Pete looked as though he was about to argue, and Patrick scowled at him until Pete closed his mouth and squirmed back on the bed so he could lay down, and Patrick rolled closer to him instinctively, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before he laid back down and closed his eyes, so he could at the very least claim he didn’t see the stunned surprise that Pete _still_  got when they kissed.

 

Like, they hadn’t been kissing for _long_  but still. It was as if he wasn’t ever gonna get over being pleased when Patrick kissed him. 

  
(Not that Patrick wanted him to).


	151. Chapter 151

I'm so so sorry for not updating this fic y’all, like, I'm so so sorry. I just got caught up with work and school, and other fandoms, and I just felt unenthused about writing this fic. But because I don't want to leave this completely unfinished, here’s what the plan was for this fic.

Blurry’s been manipulating the council, because he's a being of pure anarchy and doesn't want anyone to rule, especially not Pete, just out of spite. So the council appears as if summoned the next day at Pete’s manor and tries to raise a fuss about Patrick being injured.

Patrick gets pissed off and Pete reminds them that they're the ones who wrote into the contract that he could drink from Patrick, to which they reply “well those clearly aren't your fang marks.”

Bill appears and he and Travie work their magic to make the council think they've won when in actuality they've sold their figurative souls, and in the process they figure out Blurry’s plan and where he's located with Tyler.

Jump to a week later, Tyler’s slowly starving to death and Devin’s getting gaunter and more pale, and they urge Tyler to just do it already and bite them--they'd rather die by his hand than by Blurry’s, and Tyler gives in while Blurry’s out of the room. Devin thanks him and closes their eyes, ready to die, and asks Tyler to tell their brother that they love him, and maybe look out for him? He's older by a bit, sure, but he needs someone who cares.

Tyler promises, feeling guilty that he might not even be able to fulfill that promise, and even more guilty when rather than draining them, he turns them, knowing he's doomed them both to a life of hell if they can't escape. Devin doesn't realize this because it just feels like unrelenting pain and then a drowsiness they can't fight.

Pete hasn't been sleeping well, and he paces around the room during the day, worrying Patrick relentlessly. Pete, who loves Patrick dearly, doesn't notice, too busy making plans to get rid of Blurry and fucking what's his face, the guy who Patrick roasted on twitter???? It's been so long since I wrote this fic--SHANE MORRIS--and he thinks he's got a plan.

Josh offers himself up to go in before they torch the place down to rescue anyone who needs to be saved, because he has nothing to live for if Tyler is dead--Debby and Jenna are unamused by this proclamation and tell Pete that if Tyler or Josh dies they'll have his head on a platter. They are very scary and he agrees to that readily.

There are some amount of Joe and Patrick shenanigans that involve Patrick asking Joe what it was like to be turned and all, and Joe shows off that he has baby fangs that are due to the fact that he's never actually bitten anyone or drank blood. Patrick expresses surprise at that and Joe tries to explain the biology behind it before he shrugs and is like “fuck it, the author thought it was cool so that's what's happening.”

Patrick teases him and says he's gonna have sharp fangs and joes just like “you know that means you're gonna bite humans right? And like, do you want to?” And this is foreshadowing for later.

Josh sneaks into Morris’ base and looks around before reporting to Pete that they don't appear to have any human cattle or anything but he's figured out where Tyler is, and Pete cautions him not to do anything before their time because that could endanger them.

Devin woke up very confused and very hungry to Tyler apologizing to them and trying to explain what happened, and Blurry looks very much annoyed and says that well, now they're both going to starve unless they obey him, because he's kind of ready to stake Devin because they're useless now. 

Somehow Josh manages to get them both out, although he really doesn't want to take Devin, but Tyler tells him that he promised Patrick to take care of them and so they gotta get Devin out too. Josh is very unhappy but they manage it, and blurry stakes like three people who were supposed to be guarding his people. 

Patrick is unsafe they find out, and blurry gets his revenge by getting out of the mansion before it burns (something Morris does not manage) and he breaks in, finds his way to Patrick and takes his revenge by turning Patrick before Pete can, and Patrick writhes around in pain as Pete angsts and Joe manages to stake blurry. Tyler is very jealous.

That gets tied up neatly and Gerard is allowed to design their wedding and it is very bloody which is hilarious, and also rainbow oriented, to piss off the council, since they couldn't kill them without inciting a war. Patrick looks lovely in blue and Pete wears garters along with him because he really wants to pull those off of Patrick later.

There are no hiccups during the wedding and Andy wears a really pretty dress along with Gerard and a few others because fuck whoever says amab people can't wear femme clothes.

Devin is also there with their brother, Paul, who is another oc who I wanted y’all to fall in love with and Patrick maybe accidentally drinks his blood a little because he cuts himself on a glass that he dropped and Patrick got there first. It was very awkward for all involved because Paul didn't know what to do with his free hand and mostly just flailed and made squeaky noises because it'd be impolite to hit one of the main stars of the wedding.

Pete scoops Patrick up and announces they're gonna go fuck now so see you motherfuckers in like a month and everyone cheers and Patrick is grateful his parents weren't there for that part and then they go to the master bedroom and fuck.

I am so sorry that this is all you get, but again, I just bit off more I could chew with all of this and I lost interest. Sorry y’all. Maybe i’ll write little scenes to add on for this but for now?? Sorry


End file.
